


Broken Star

by Balis



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: 5th Route, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Byleth and Claude play therapist, Byleth wants everyone to live, Claude just tries to make everyone get along, Dimitris gone kind of... violent, Edelgard did not have a good time during the timeskip, Fire Emblem: Three Houses Golden Deer Route, Found Family, Not all Agarthans are completely evil, Post-Timeskip | War Phase (Fire Emblem: Three Houses), Redemption, Spoilers, at first, basically TWSITD nuke Garreg Mach during Chapter 11, no beta we die like men
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-10-19
Updated: 2020-05-28
Packaged: 2020-12-24 00:15:44
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 18
Words: 56,481
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21090185
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Balis/pseuds/Balis
Summary: The Ones Who Slither in the Dark decide to get rid of all potential threats to their conquest, launching an attack on the Holy Tomb on the same day the Class of 1180 would find out the Flame Emperor's true identity.Five years later, Byleth has to put the world they've shattered back together.





	1. Throne of Destruction

Deep Underground…

Claude unleashed another volley of arrows as Byleth jumped back from his clash with the Flame Emperor. The armored stranger blocked the fusillade with their shield, all four arrows impacting hard enough to plant themselves into the shield, but not enough to pierce through it.

The rest of the Golden Deer were busy, fighting off a horde of Flame Empire soldiers, lead by the Emperor’s new lieutenant, an assassin named Metodey. 

“Claude!” Byleth commanded, “Break Shot!”

“Don’t have to ask me twice,” The Golden Deer leader remarked as he focused a shot towards their mutual opponent’s legs. They easily dodged past the shot by jumping to the side, despite their heavy armor.

“Do you really think that-” They remarked as Byleth unfurled the Sword of the Creator’s whip form and slammed it into the Flame Emperor’s side. They stumbled back as Claude took up position behind their teacher, nocking another arrow.

The Flame Emperor held their axe-wielding hand to their side, making sure to still keep a grip on their weapon while they checked the wound.

“Well played,” They replied as the axe glowed, sending a bolt of lightning towards Claude, who jumped out of the way while shooting an arrow at his opponent, who easily smacked it out of the air with their shield.

Byleth yelled as he rushed towards the Emperor, unleashing the whip form of their sword in a series of attacks. Each one was promptly met by the Emperor, either with their axe or their arrow ridden shield.

“Wait…. No! I was just following orders! I just…” 

The clash of blades between the two were promptly cut off when, to the trio of combatants collective shock, the body of Metodey was thrown straight into the Flame Emperor. They managed to parry the remains of their lieutenant with their shield, knocking off the various arrows Claude had put into it while deflecting the body away from them. The Emperor took one final mournful glance at the man before turning, along with Byleth and Claude, to look at the source of the intrusion.

There, standing in a clearing of the Golden Deer, was the entire Blue Lion House, with their head, Dimitri, at the front, wiping a large amount of blood off his lance before glaring at the Emperor with pure hatred. The rest of the house split off to help their Alliance counterparts, but Dimitri himself rushed forward in a surprising display of speed, jumping onto the elevated position the former trio had been fighting on.

“Flame Emperor!” He called, as Byleth and Claude backed off to support him as he strode towards the armored enemy, lance in hand, “I have come to seek justice! For the Massacre of Remire Village, the assassination of Sir Jeralt, and the Tragedy of Duscur!” 

The Prince rushed toward, shoving his lance into the Emperor’s waiting shield, impaling into it. After a few moments of mutual struggling as Dimitri attempted to pierce through the battered shield, a sharp snapping sound emerged from the shield as a light crack appeared on its surface. Seeing this, Dimitri put even more of his immense strength into his attack, causing more cracks to form. Eventually, all of the cracks began to deepen and, in one motion, Dimitri broke through the shield with a metallic shattering noise. The Emperor dodged to the side, avoiding being skewered by the enraged Prince as the pieces of their shield scattered around them.

Meanwhile, Claude found himself struggling to get a proper shot in on he and the Prince’s mutual enemy, being unable to shoot his prepared arrow due to the struggle between the two. Byleth was busy issuing orders to the newly formed coalition of Deer and Lion. Ignatz and Ashe both fired arrows to take down one of the remaining Demonic Beasts. Dedue effortlessly tanked a barrage of arrows from a pair of Imperial archers, before Lysithia and Mercedes promptly obliterated them in turn. In general, Byleth noted that the two houses had great potential before turning his attention back to what was formerly his own fight.

“I can’t do anything if he won’t give me an opening,” Claude complained as he watched Dimitri attempt a series of stabs against the Emperor, who dodged them before attempting an axe swing at their opponent, who narrowly parried it with his lance. 

“Hmmm,” Byleth nodded in agreement. The main problem was that Dimitri himself was too enraged to properly synergize with the two of them. His strikes were rapid, filled with hate, and done without too much thought. The Flame Emperor meanwhile was on the defensive, but their dodges were graceful, taking care to put Dimitri between them and Claude’s arrows. Their counterattacks, however, magical or otherwise, proved ineffective as Dimitri powered through them. The fight between them looked like a mad dance, and it was extremely unclear who would win if he and Claude continued to be unable to intervene.

In fact, the fighting style of the Emperor was starting to look strangely familiar…

Shrugging the thought out of his head for now as Dimitri narrowly dodged a bolt of lightning from the Emperor, Byleth began to think about how either he or Claude could end this. Dimiri was no help, but perhaps…?

“For King Lambert!” Dimitri yelled as he let loose another furious charge with his lance, which was dodged by the Emperor. Their breathing was heavy now. It seemed like Dimitri’s assault was finally beginning to tire them out.

“For Queen Patricia!” Another charge. However, instead of dodging past it, the Emperor tried and failed to parry to blow. The lance rushed past their weapon, forcing them to deflect it off of their armor. A small but bloody piece of armor flew off as the Emperor side-stepped, standing before one of the walls of the chamber. This attack, and the remark preceding it, seemed to catch them off-guard.

“For everyone who you’ve murdered!” Dimitri let loose one final enraged charge with his lance, throwing all pretences of strategy to the wind. Wind trailing behind his weapon, Dimitri put all his strength into a stab towards his enemy. A stab that the Flame Emperor narrowly avoided as the lance deeply imbedded itself in the wall, causing a massive spider web of cracks to emerge around it.

The Emperor whipped around and raised their axe at the raging prince, who was attempting to pry his weapon from the wall for another attack. It was the perfect opportunity. Dimitri was helpless, his foe had a clean swing at his head. One hit, and the Prince would be dead. 

“Farewell.” 

The Emperor began to swing their axe down. 

And Claude had just the opportunity he needed.

Before the axe could fall more than a few inches, an arrow flew straight into the Emperor’s exposed side.

The Emperor, axe still raised, turned to face the Alliance House leader. A smirking Claude returned the look before signaling his Professor.

“Now!”

Byleth leapt forward, transforming their weapon. In one motion, the whip-sword raked across the Emperor’s helmet. The distinct sound of metal tearing could be heard as the mask was forcibly torn off and mutilated by the serated blade. The red and white visage clattered to the ground, shattering into two pieces when it made an impact.

And as the Emperor’s helmet followed its former faceguard to the ground, everyone present found themselves staring at a familiar face. Edelgard.

“The Black Eagles have arrived!” Caspar enthusiastically announced from the back of the room. Had anyone turned their attention to his introduction, they would’ve seen the rest of the Black Eagles, with the exception of Hubert, had arrived to reinforce the rest of the school. However, their looks of excitement and bravery were quickly replaced by those of confusion, horror, and shock.

“Wh-Why is Edie wearing the Flame Emperor’s armor?” Dorothea asked, her voice trembling as she and her classmates realized the Emperor’s identity.

“No way…” Claude said in shock, before the whole room was suddenly cut off by a burst of laughter from Dimitri.

“This… This is some kind of sick JOKE!” The azure Prince yelled as he violently broke his lance out of the wall, scattering rocks across the ground. 

“So the end has come,” Edelgard said calmly as Dimitri charged her, almost frothing at the mouth in his rage.

“MONSTER!” 

Dimitri charged with his lance, swinging wildly as Edelgard. She easily dodged the swing and countered, smashing the blunt end of her axe into his head. The blow sent the enraged Prince falling off the raised platform they, Claude, and Byleth were fighting on. He brutally crashed onto the floor, to the concern of his classmates.

“You have disappointed me Edelgard,” Rhea said as she strode forward, no one having noticed her arrival due to the reveal,looking at Edelgard from below the platform. She stood not far from Dimitri, who got up, revealing strands of blood from his nose cascading down his face.

“To think a descendant of House Hresvelg would dare betray the holy church…” She remarked, causing Byleth to look over his shoulder at her.

“Professor. Kill Edelgard at once.”

Byleth reluctantly reached for his sword once again, opening his mouth to say something.

However, his look of resignation was suddenly replaced by horror. His eyes shrunk as they darted around the room. His hand immediately withdrew from his blade.

Claude knew his Teacher usually hid his emotions well, even at horrible events like the massacre of Remire Village. Even his father’s death had only affected him so much, after the initial tears Byleth usually attempted to visibly downplay his sorrow, at least in public. To see him so outwardly shocked could only mean one thing.

Something was terribly, _terribly_ wrong.

“Run! All of you!” Byleth suddenly shouted as he began to cast a spell, not aimed at Edelgard, but at Claude. He let loose a fireball, which landed at Claude’s feet, knocking him off the platform and onto the ground, joining Dimitri and Rhea. Claude quickly recovered and got up as Byleth began to run to join him.

“Teach, what’s wrong?!” 

Claude was shortly answered when the wall before Edelgard and Byleth exploded, sending a rain of debris and dust towards the rest of the class of 1180. Byleth, having started running beforehand, was sent flying towards a shocked Dimitri and Claude. Edelgard, having been unprepared for the sudden attack, was engulfed by dust as she was also sent flying forwards.

Byleth landed hard on his side, but ignored it and quickly got up. No one could determine where Edelgard landed.

To their surprise, Claude, Dimitri, and the rest of the class were blinded by a bright yellow light coming from the former wall the explosion had originated from. After a moment, they came to a realization. It was the setting sun. Whatever had caused it had also punched a hole clean through the mountain.

And then, to the confusion of all but Rhea, a series of bright blue rings, seemingly made of light, appeared in a line, going from the outside to the inside of the Mausoleum. 

“That’s impossible!” Rhea cried out.

Byleth got up weakly, clutching a shard of rock that had stabbed them in the side, “Everyone!” He cried out to all present, “Get out of here! Now!”

Chaos immediately erupted. None of the classmates wanted to leave their house leaders behind. Mercedes and Dedue immediately rushed to help a delirious Dimitri, who was now demanding to know where Edelgard went, while the rest of the Blue Lions began to assist them. The Black Eagles, meanwhile, were conflicted as to whether they should help their traitorous House Leader or listen to Byleth’s demand and flee. While they argued, the Golden Deer went to go help Claude and Byleth. Claude dusted himself off and brushed off help from Raphael and Hilda.

“I’m fine,” He remarked to his classmates, “Teach, what _was_ that?”

Marianne began to heal Byleth, but he stopped her part-way through the process, “I’m fine,” He told her, “Please, you need to get out of here. All of you.”

“How did you-”

“I don’t know,” He answered Claude, looking over the entrance at the new window to the outside, “But there’s more of them coming.”

To Byleth’s horror, he spotted a large metal object being carried along one of the lines of rings, “I’ll explain later Claude, just get everyone out of here!”

“Teach-”

“Just go!” Byleth begged, “I’ll be right behind you.”

Claude looked at the Professor and nodded. 

“Let’s go everyone!” Claude said, signalling all three houses.

Meanwhile, Rhea looked back at Byleth, then at the shattered remains of one half of the Mausoleum. She looked at the fleeing students, before gaining a resigned look on her face as rubble began to fall from the ceiling. In a flash of light, the Archbishop was gone, replaced by a massive white dragon. 

“The Immaculate One…” Claude noted as he helped up a downed Linhardt , who had tripped on a piece of rubble while following his classmates.

With a mournful roar, Rhea flapped her wings and took off. The dragon flew through the newly formed hole, soaring towards the rapidly approaching projectile. Energy gathering in her mouth, Rhea let out a beam of fiery energy, obliterating the missile but causing a massive explosion in the air.

Another missile appeared on the horizon, which was again destroyed by a beam from Rhea.

Another one. Another explosion.

Two at once. She could only destroy one this time. The other almost went past her, where it would’ve entered the Mausoleum. Luckily, the dragon caught it in her claws, just for a moment, enough to direct it just enough so it didn’t hit the same spot as the first strike.

There were three in the next volley. The draconic Archbishop seemed to realize that she couldn’t stop all of them this time. She downed one with another blast, before descending back into the hole in the side of Garreg Mach. She raised her wings and prepared another attack.

Meanwhile, Edelgard got up from underneath a pile of rubble. Her armor was ruined, several plates had fallen off and the cape had been torn completely. The future Empress also had a small, bleeding wound somewhere in her hair. It trickled down the right side of her face.

“Augh,” She groaned in pain as she touched her head wound, “What have they done...” She questioned.

“Hubert, we need to get out of here,” She said, seemingly expecting help, only to find her eternally loyal retainer wasn’t at her side.

Her eyes widened, “Hubert?” She repeated as even more rubble came down nearby.

Byleth was busy directing all of his students, Golden Deer or otherwise, helping them up if they fell or yelling directions to those leading the escape, all the while ignoring the pain in his side. 

With the last of the assembled students out of the Mausoleum, lead by Claude, Byleth was about to leave when he noticed Edelgard, barred from escaping with the rest by rubble. He looked at her, then back at the retreating students, and made a choice.

With one mighty swing of the Sword of the Creator, he cleared the rubble. To Edelgard’s surprise, the Professor held out a hand to pull her up.

“Professor-” She began to exclaim, surprised, as he helped her up.

He cut her off, “Don’t talk, just keep moving,” He explained as he put her arm around him, helping her towards the exit. 

Behind them, Rhea let out another beam, destroying another missile. Leaving only one. One that she no longer had the ability to stop. 

She went even further into the cavern and raised her wings to cover as much of the room as possible. Byleth noticed and realized. 

She wasn’t trying to stop the attacks anymore. 

She was trying to absorb as much of the blast with her body as she could.

The cave, rocked by the destruction of its structure and shaken by the early detonations of the missiles outside, began to fall apart even faster than it was before. Rubble came down like boulders. Soon, the whole cave would collapse in on itself. 

As the final missile entered its final destination, Byleth shoved Edelgard towards the exit.

Rhea let out one final blast of energy, destroying the missile right before it would hit her. The last thing Byleth saw of her draconic form was it being consumed by the ensuing fireball.

The ground below Byleth seemed to give way to an endless abyss as the blast approached him.

The last thing he remembered was falling deeper and deeper into the earth.


	2. Byleth Alone

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Byleth wakes up to find the world he knew abandoned.

5 Years Later

“You... How long do you intend to sleep?”

Byleth didn’t want to wake up. He could see the appeal of Sothis’ favorite pastime now. Sleeping like this for days, months, years on end...

“Your body is awake. Your eyes must open now, and you must find the strength to stand upon those legs of yours.”

No. For the first time in possibly his whole life, Byleth felt at peace. Whole.

“Like so much rain, a pool of blood has fallen to the ground… As spears and arrows pierce the earth, it weeps. Even now… it weeps.”

Wait.

“The people weep, lost in an abyss of suffering.”

This isn’t right, he realized.

“The only one who knows the nature of such things is I… Or rather, you.”

He was forgetting something, someone. Wasn’t he?

No, no. This was exactly where he needed to be. Just drift off and away…

“You complete and utter fool!” The familiar voice turned sharp, “Have you not changed one bit?!”

Wait a-

“Get on your feet. Right now!”

Hold on-

I’ll coddle you no more!”

Please just-

“You are just like a child, always needing me to hold your hand…”

He just wanted to hold onto this feeling for a moment longer.

“Have you forgotten everything important to you! Everyone?”

_The students_, he realized.

The memory of them running for their lives came flooding back.

“I made a promise to them,” He said into the void.

“Good, hold on to that promise!” Sothis commanded.

“Now get up!”

Byleth woke up in a cold sweat. 

First of all, he was soaked. Evidently he’d been floating down a river, considering how it felt like he was laying on wet dirt. Water licked his boots before he finally got up and stumbled onto drier earth.

His eyes took a moment to adjust to the natural light. How long had he been out?

He was in a village, or at least, what used to be a village. The buildings looked completely abandoned. There wasn’t a single soul around, at least that he could see. 

He began to wander around, trying to place his current location. The few signs hanging around the village were either broken or so battered he couldn’t read them.

After a few houses, Byleth came across something truly bizarre. An entire house with a large portion of it perfectly sliced off. It reminded him of someone having cut through butter with a hot knife. The closer he inspected the scene, the odder it became. Giant humanoid footprints were indented into the dirt all around the house. In fact, as he looked around he realized they were all over the village.

They looked like the greave footprints of an armored knight, but too massive to be from a human.

What happened here?

As he stared into the sky in thought, he noticed something. Something he would’ve hit himself for overlooking had he not been so shocked by the sight.

Garreg Mach in ruins.

The mountain the monastery laid on looked like it had been hit by a meteor shower. There were large craters littering it, though the actual academy building looked to generally be in stable condition.

It truly hurt him to see it in such a state.

Then he realized what village he was in. He, and the rest of the classes, had passed through it several times on their way to missions and other off campus excursions.

Seeing it so abandoned shook him.

Again, what happened here?

Byleth decided the best place to start his search for answers was the monastery itself. 

Making his way up the mountain, he was amazed the pathway up wasn’t destroyed in the attack. He figured the majority of the blasts were focused on the side of the mountain. It was a minor miracle that none of the monastery had fallen in the meantime, especially considering the amount of structural damage to the mountain itself.

Eventually, he reached the former market. 

Like the village, it was completely abandoned. The various carts that were formerly omnipresent there had either vanished, been overturned, or simply left to rot. Most of the stock was gone too. The item shop looked to have been looted, with nothing but small scraps of cloth and metal remaining. The blacksmith and armory were both in similar conditions. What weapons hadn’t been taken away were either completely broken to pieces or too rusted and battered to ever be used in combat again. 

Making his way to the entrance hall, Byleth couldn’t help but note how wrong it felt to see the area with no one in it. Usually there were guards, students, merchants, and other civilians roaming around. Now, nothing but dust.

It was a similar state across the rest of the school. The student dorms sat abandoned, as was the mess hall, the courtyard, the greenhouse, the House classrooms… Everything.

The only place left to check was the Cathedral. 

Making his way across the great bridge that led it, Byleth expected some issue with the massive iron gate that usually prevented access the Cathedral at night. When he actually came to it, he was shocked to see it torn in two. As if some giant strongman had grabbed two iron bars and simply bent them apart to make an entrance for himself. 

Shrugging, he made his way inside and saw what had become of the Holy Ground. 

The interior was completely ruined. A large pile of dirt and rubble had come down in front of the central statue of Seiros, destroying it or at least completely burying it. The pews were had been destroyed as well, several of them seemingly cut in half or otherwise broken to pieces. He also noticed several large slashes covered the wall, like they were made by someone swinging a massive sword around.

Making his way to the Saint Statues, Byleth was horrified to see they’d been desecrated. Each statue looked like it was cut to pieces, much like the house he’d seen in the village and the various slash marks he found around the Cathedral. They were almost completely unrecognizable, with only a small portion of each statue still remaining on their respective pedestals.

“So much for all that restoration,” He thought sarcastically.

Byleth noted that none of the parts that had been broken off were scattered nearby, likely stolen.

Leaving the Cathedral through the right-hand exit, Byleth realized he’d inadvertently strayed into the monastery graveyard. 

Well, if he couldn’t find any of the students here, he could at least visit someone.

“Father,” Byleth said, kneeling at Jeralt’s grave, “How long has it been?”

He sat there in silence for a moment, though to him it felt like hours.

“I don’t know what to do,” He admitted, “I don’t know what happened, I don’t know where anybody is, I… I’m lost.”

“Please, I just need you to guide me one more time. I know you wanted me to learn to guide myself, but I can’t now,” Tears began to fall, just like they had when the grave’s occupant had passed in his arms.

“Give me a sign, anything!” He begged.

“I can’t do this without you.”

But Byleth received no response. Nothing but the wind blowing past the unmoving graves.

Composing himself, Byleth had one last glance at the tombstone before leaving.

The Professor decided he should at least collect his belongings from his room before he tried to do anything else.

Luckily, nothing seemed to be missing from his room when he arrived. Byleth gathered up his Father’s journal, his mother’s ring, and some other items he’d stored in his quarters, putting them all into a knapsack he had laying around. He didn’t have much, so at least he’d travel light.

As he went to leave, however, he noticed something peculiar. A wyvern resting on top of one of the towers. At first he figured it might’ve been a wild one, probably related to the flock that the monastery kept for use as mounts.

But as he looked closer, he realized that the wyvern wasn’t just resting on top of the tower. It was watching him. Analyzing his movements.

And even more, it wasn’t simply a wild animal. It had a saddle and some small pieces of armor on. It was a _mount._

And a wyvern mount is never far from its rider.

The wyvern, seemingly realizing that Byleth had caught it in the act, quietly took off, gliding on a breeze down the mountain.

Byleth took a moment to think. He knew only one person who’d both stay with the Monastery even while it was in this level of disarray while simultaneously having a trained wyvern.

_Seteth._

“Thank you,” Byleth said, glancing at the Cathedral before taking off in pursuit of the winged mount.

His chase quickly brought him to the edge of a cliff, where he saw the wyvern make a midair u-turn and disappear into the mountain. Whoever it was returning to seemed to have taken up shelter in the hole the initial attack had created.

Byleth began to carefully make his way down the side of the cliff. He slipped and began to freefall, only for the world to distort around him and return him to his previous position.

At least Divine Pulse still worked, though he felt a bit weakened afterward.

After a few minutes of rock climbing, Byleth noticed a clearing in the rubble below him. It was small, but definitely large enough for the wyvern to squeeze through. He maneuvered his way over to it and stabbed the Sword of the Creator into the rocks. With a small motion, he made the blade turn to its whip form, using it to aid his descent towards the entrance.

A mundane use of a powerful relic, but a use nonetheless.

Dropping down, Byleth found his footing on the rock before recalling the rest of his blade. Putting it back in its sheath, he entered what remained of the Holy Tomb.

It took his eyes a moment to adjust to the low levels of light, but when he did he had quite the sight.

The previously pristine floor of the Tomb was now covered in rubble, though remarkably had little dust covering it. All of the support pillars seemed to have crumbled, and it took Byleth a minute to realize what was preventing the cave from collapsing.

It was the stone form of the dragon Rhea had turned into that fateful day. 

Her wings and body were holding up the ceiling, spearing that small portion of the massive tomb from being buried by the rubble. Her head laid on the ground, as if she had fallen asleep while holding back the weight.

In his shock, Byleth failed to notice someone approaching behind him until he heard a small gasp.

In a flash, he whipped out the Sword of the Creator and turned towards his potential attacker.

“Professor?” 

Despite how much they had grown, Byleth still recognized the familiar face.

“Cyril?”


	3. Amongst the Rubble

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cyril explains what happened during Byleth's slumber, while Byleth tries to look into where his former students ended up.

Rhea’s Tomb

“It really is you…” Cyril said, putting down the axe he had drawn on his teacher.

“See Lady Rhea,” The Almyran remarked to the petrified dragon, “He came back.”

“Cyril,” Byleth asked, knowing the boy’s tendency to get straight to the point, “What happened? Where is everyone?”

“Well, after you and Lady Rhea disappeared,” Cyril began to explain as the wyvern Byleth had followed to the cave approached them out of the shadows, “The whole Monastery evacuated. Most of the students got forced back to their homes, either by the nobles or their families. After a while was just me and the rest of the Knights.”

“Then…” His expression darkened, “The Agarthans showed up…”

“The Agarthans?” Byleth asked, confused.

“They’re really pale,” Cyril described, “Actually, they all look a lot like that Solon guy. The one who impersonated Tomas." 

"And a bit like the girl that killed Jeralt, too," He added.

“Kronya…” Byleth muttered, feeling a surge of anger towards his father’s late murderer.

“Anyways, they sent out messengers to the Empire, the Alliance, and the Kingdom,” Cyril recounted, counting the factions off on his fingers, “They told them ‘Surrender or what happened to Garreg Mach will happen to you’, or something like that.”

“Well, when the Kingdom and the Empire tried to fight back, they hit two of their best forts with the same Javelins of Light they used here. That made them back down real quick.”

“Javelins of Light? You mean-”

“The things they hit you and Lady Rhea with, yeah,” Cyril answered, “Flayn came up with the name.”

“So after that,” He continued, “They sent a bunch of soldiers here, and a few of these big metal creatures. Professor Hanneman called them Titanuses. They marched up here and just started destroying everything they could find. We drove them off, but they’d come back every so often. So the Knights made me a squire and Shamir started helping me train whenever I could.”

That made sense, Byleth thought, Cyril’s new outfit actually looked a lot like a gender flipped version of Shamir’s. Speaking of whom...

“Where’s the rest of the Knights?” The Professor asked.

“Well,” Cyril looked down sadly, “After a while we started to lose people.”

He patted his wyvern on the head, “First Flayn and Seteth vanished one night,” He recalled, “Left a note saying they were putting us in more danger by staying here and that it’d be better for everyone if they left.”

“Then Gilbert decided to leave to help what parts of the Kingdom didn’t surrender. Said he’d come back with help eventually, but he never did.”

“Catherine and Hanneman got captured during one of the raids,” He continued, “We didn’t get to them in time before they had some of their mages warp them away. We tried to go after them, but…” He trailed off.

“We lost a lot of Knights trying that. Manuela left afterwards too.”

Cyril stopped to reflect for a moment before continuing, “After a while we started losing more and more men are trying to stop them from completely destroying the Monastery. Eventually it was just me, Shamir, and Alois.”

His expression softened, “And then a few months ago they went out to get supplies and never came back.”

“Now I’m the only one left,” He finished, “Just me, Lady Rhea, and Dona here…” He petted his wyvern again.

Byleth sat down on a nearby rock and held his forehead. Flayn, Seteth, Catherine, Hanneman, Manuela, Gilbert, Shamir, Alois… All gone.

“How’d you find this cavern?” He questioned, “I thought it would’ve been completely caved in.”

Cyril looked up, slightly beaming, “Oh that’s thanks to Dona. She showed me this little hole in the rock, and I swore I could see Lady Rhea through it. So I just spent a few days hauling the rocks away until I made a hole big enough for her to fit through, then I moved all the remaining supplies down here. And I was right! It was like Lady Rhea was calling out to her from underneath all this rubble.”

“Now I just take care of the Monastery. If I need to get something, I just ride Dona out of here. And if I need to take a rest, I just have Dona keep watch in case something happens.”

Byleth sat in thought for a moment as Cyril helped his wyvern settle down in a nearby pile of straw. 

“You know, I’m sure Lady Rhea’s really happy to see you, even if she can’t show it,” Cyril remarked as he got the saddle off his wyvern.

Byleth looked up at the dragon. Was it possible she was in there somewhere, perhaps sleeping like he had?

“Do you know if she’s still…” Byleth asked quietly.

“Oh I have a feeling,” Cyril replied chipperly, “Lady Rhea promised she’d always be here for us. After all, you came back, whos to say she can’t?”

He supposed there was a point there.

“How long has it been?” Byleth asked, not diverting his gaze from the statue.

“You’re asking a lot of questions,” Cyril noted with his usual brutal honesty, “I’d say about five or so years. Never really checked the calenders.”

The sun was beginning to set at this point, mirroring the way it shone into this very cave five years ago when everything fell apart.

“If you want there’s some extra beds down this way,” Cyril said as he lit a torch, revealing a few smaller tunnels made through the rubble, these ones held up by wooden structures. They were just large enough that Byleth could fit through without crouching down.

The Professor’s mind still buzzed with questions about what had happened to the world as he and Cyril made their way into the small tunnel network. He guessed Cyril, ever the hard worker, had simply kept digging and putting up wooden support whenever he needed more space. Eventually Cyril lead him down a tunnel that led to a small stockpile of weapons, equipment, and various other spare items. Among them was a small bed, seemingly scavenged from one of the student rooms.

“You can sleep here for a while,” The boy said, dusting the bed off, “Nice to have company other then Dona for once.”

Byleth set down his bag of personal belongings.

“Have you heard from Claude or others since they left?” He asked as Cyril began to leave.

Cyril stood still for a moment before turning back to answer him, “No. But I’m pretty sure the Knights found something about where he and the rest of the class ran off to. I think I still have notes they kept on it somewhere.” He disappeared down the tunnel to search for the paperwork.

Byelth sat on the bed, lost in thought. These new foes, the Agarthans… They had to be associated the the Flame Emperor- no, Edelgard’s mysterious allies. Kronya and Solon did seem to possess weapons and sorcery beyond what the majority of Fódlan possesed, not to mention Kronya’s mysterious savior. Whoever he was, he possessed the magical power needed to form shields capable of blocking the Sword of the Creator, and skilled enough to be able to do so in the split second before it could hit it's target. 

His thoughts turned to the weapons they’d used on the Monastery, and apparently the Kingdom and Empire as well. From what he’d gleaned in his brief contact with them, they seemed to be some kind of metal construct, thrown at high speeds toward their targets, guided by some kind of complicated magical system. They also had to have some kind of explosive inside of them, considering much of a blast they created either on impact or early detonation. It reminded him of the carts of gunpowder some battalions used as last ditch gambits, but combined with the delivery and accuracy of a ballista. 

“Found ‘em!” Cyril interrupted his thoughts by coming back into the room, “The Knights were trying to track some of the students down over the last few years.”

He laid down a map of Fódlan, alongside a small pile of books and papers, with three markers sketched onto it. They were all at one of the clearings of the Oghma Mountains respectively, each one in the (former?) territory of one of the three Countries of the region. He recognized two of them as crests, the one over Alliance territory as the crest of Reigan and the one over the Kingdom territory as the crest of Blaiddyd. The Imperial territory, meanwhile, had a small drawing of an eagle. 

Reigan and Blaiddyd?

_Claude and Dimitri_, he realized. __

_ __ _

_ __ _

It definitely made sense the two of them would attempt to go against the Agarthans’ conquest of their homelands. Claude would never just stand back and surrender to a faction that were responsible for so much pain and chaos. Dimitri wouldn’t either, especially if he had connected the dots like he had and realized they were most likely responsible for Remire Village, and possibly even more events like it in the meantime.

He absently wondered what happened to Edelgard, considering how her crest of Seiros was missing. Had she made it out of the Tomb alive that night? 

And if she did, did he make a mistake in staying behind to help her?

“Well I see you’re already busy thinking,” Cyril remarked, “I’ll just go.”

Byleth absentmindedly waved Cyril goodbye as he went through the rest of the notes the Knights had gathered.

Turning his attention to the small pile of papers Cyril had left behind, Byleth began the process of looking through each one to look for any clues as to where his former students had ended up.

**“Agarthan patrol missing in Airmis,” **He read from a booklet where Shamir had written down several observations on enemy troop movements, **“Another was found massacred in Charon. Rumored that Relics were used by ambushers.”**

**“Death Knight spotted in Darley. Apparently was being pursued by a duo of Titanus. I thought they were on the same side?”**

**“Another village vanished. Rumored to be housing Crest-bearing nobles.”**

**“One of the Knights heard someone with the Crest of Reigan saved a group of merchants from a monster attack near Myessin. Claude?”**

That one got his attention.

Shifting through the rest of the papers, they were mostly more of the same. Pages upon pages of reports involving ambushed Agarthan patrols, mysterious rescuers saving people from monsters, and the occasional spotting of a Relic. All signs pointed to the fact that his former students were out there somewhere, fighting back against these invaders for the last few years.

Byleth only noticed how late it was when the candles keeping the room lit began to flicker out one by one, the wax completely melted and the wicks burned to nothing. He lay back on the old bed, somehow tired despite having just woken from literal years of sleep.

Before he drifted off to unconsciousness, Byleth decided.

He was going to find Claude, and hopefully the rest of the Golden Deer.

And when he did, he was going to help them in any way he could.


	4. Chasing Dreams

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Byleth goes out to reunite with his family.

Rhea’s Tomb

As Byleth slept, he dreamed.

He dreamed of a black figure, fighting against a tide of red invaders. The figure stopped to rest, exhausted.

It was then that a new group of figures appeared. Pale blue ones. They whispered in the black figure’s ear, telling him something.

The black figure nodded. Suddenly, he was approaching a sleeping green figure, marked with a bright purple Crest of Flames.

In a flash, the black figure produced a blade, stabbing the green figure. The Crest of Flames began to fade from the green figure, turning grey as their breathing ceased. The black figure suddenly gained the Crest, also growing purple.

The scene went back to the black figure fighting invaders, only the red figures assaulting him were cut down much more easily. In a single swing he would destroy dozens of them.

As he finished fighting off his enemies, more black figures appeared behind the one with the Crest of Flames, each bearing a Crest of one of the 10 Heroes.

The dream came to a quick end as Byleth woke up in a sweat.

He’d had odd dreams before, but that? That was… different.

It had to mean something.

Shaking the thoughts out of his head, Byleth brushed off some dust that had gathered on him during his rest. The price to pay for sleeping in an old bed in a tunnel made through rubble, he supposed.

Properly getting up, Byleth put the map Cyril had brought him into his bag, along with a handful of the other papers. He left the storage room the Almyran had converted into a makeshift bedroom to go find where his companion was. Making his way through the tunnels back to Rhea’s resting place, Byleth found Cyril kneeling near the dragon’s head.

“I thought you weren’t a believer,” Byleth remarked, knowing Cyril wasn’t exactly a member of the Church in terms of religion.

“Yeah, and I’m still not,” Cyril admitted as he got up, “But Lady Rhea can’t exactly pray right now, so I’m doing it for her.”

“So anyways, you find anything in all that stuff?”

“Well, I think I have a general idea of where Claude and Dimitri are,” Byleth admitted, taking out the map, “Assuming its them who’s been attacking the Agarthan patrols, it seems like Claude is somewhere in this area,” He pointed to a forest Northeast of Myessin, “The forest there is usually avoided by merchants because of the density of the trees. It would make for excellent hideout, and all the nearby reports say the mysterious ambushers and rescuers used bows, Claude’s specialty.”

Byleth pointed towards the mountains South of Charon, “I think Dimitri is hiding here.”

“The attacks on Agarthan forces nearby are noted to be exceptionally brutal. I know Dimitri tends to be particularly violent when dealing with forces such as theirs, and this mountain would be easy to navigate for Kingdom natives, but difficult for outsiders. The perfect place for a Kingdom resistance to stay if they wanted to avoid retaliation.”

He looked up at a slightly confused Cyril, “You understand?”

Cyril shook his hand around, “Vaguely.”

Byleth cracked a small smile.

“So basically Claude’s hiding there,” Cyril gestured towards Myessin, “And Dimitri’s hiding here?” He gestured at Charon.

“That is the theory.”

“Alright.” 

Cyril hesitated for a moment, “So, does this mean you’re leaving?”

Byleth stopped. Cyril’s been here all alone for the last few months at least. He didn’t want to leave him behind, but…

“Yes. I’m going to try and find Claude, and hopefully everyone else.”

Silence passed between the two.

“Would you be willing to come with me?” Byleth asked.

Cyril looked at the petrified dragon before them, “Nah, I’ve got a job to do here. Someone has to protect Lady Rhea after all. Especially when she can’t protect herself.”

“Not to mention,” He continued, “I have to clean up the monastery, scare off any bandits, fend off the Agarthans if they come back…”

Byleth knew that’d be the answer.

“So this is goodbye then?” Cyril questioned.

“For now, at least,” Byleth answered.

“Well, can’t blame you,” The Almyran admitted, “Your job is to help the students, just like how my job is to help Lady Rhea.”

He whistled for his wyvern, who groggily woke up with a low growl.

“Least I can do is at least fly you over there,” Cyil said as he went to saddle up his mount, “You wouldn’t believe how fast Dona here can go if she’s given enough space.”

“If your hungry I’ve got some spare food stored down there,” Cyril told him, “Just go down the tunnel to the right of the room you were in last night, you can’t miss it.”

Byleth nodded and went to go get himself his first breakfast in a long time.

As he went down the slightly cramped tunnel, the former mercenary felt a twinge of guilt. He didn’t want to leave Cyril here alone, but he had to get back to his students. He knew that Cyril wouldn’t leave Rhea’s side no matter what he did, but the thought of leaving the younger boy with no one just didn’t feel right. 

Byleth found the makeshift storeroom Cyril had mentioned. Most of the food was stored in old linen bags, and at least some of it was quite stale, as the Professor found out when he tried to take a bite out of a loaf of bread that was so hard he swore he nearly broke a tooth.

After he’d eaten enough to not be hungry for a while, Byleth went to go meet up with Cyril back at the entrance to the cavern.

“Ok, haven’t exactly ferried another person before, so this might be a bit rough,” Cyril remarked as he finished fastening the saddle to a now fully awake Dona, “I’ve carried supplies and stuff that weigh about the same though, so she can at least handle the weight.”

Byleth took one last glance at Rhea’s stone form, “Let’s get going then.”

“Got it,” Cyril replied.

The two of them got on the wyvern’s back. Luckily, wyvern saddles were usually quite large compared to their riders, so the two of them were able to fit with room to spare.

“Alright Dona, let’s go!” Cyril cried, giving his wyvern a light kick on the side to let her know to take off.

Taking a running start, Dona ran out of the cave before spreading her wings and jumping off the ledge that made up the entrance. The wyvern glided down the mountain, gathering speed as she went through the mist that always surrounded bottom of the monastery.

Byleth, meanwhile, found himself clinging to Cyril for dear life.

“First time huh,” Cyril asked as Dona looped around the mountain. 

Byleth nodded furiously in response.

“Yeah, you get used to it,” He said before directing Dona to speed up, not helping Byleth at all.

When Dona finally reached the side of the mountain that faced Alliance territory, Byleth turned his head around to take one last look at the Monastery, unsure if he’d ever return.

“Hey Cyril,” He shouted as to make his voice clear over the high winds, “Do you know if anyone found out what happened to Edelgard?”

Cyril directed Dona to turn before answering, “I think she managed to escape back to the Empire before anyone could stop her, not sure what happened to her afterwards.”

So she did survive. 

But that still didn’t answer if it was worth losing five years to save her.

Looking down in thought, Byleth noticed they were flying over a village. A burnt down, completely abandoned village.

Just like the one at the base of Garreg Mach.

Another reason to find the rest of the Golden Deer as soon as possible.

After many minutes of flying, Cyril saw something that immediately alerted him.

“Hmmm… That's bad. We gotta go down,” He said quietly as he guided Dona to glide down past a nearby hill.

“What’s wrong-” Byleth managed to get out before Cyril pulled them off the saddle and onto the ground. On cue, the wyvern began to hide itself as well, laying it's wings on the ground as to keep itself as flat as possible behind the hill.

“Agarthan patrol,” Cyril answered, peeking his head just slightly over the hill so as to get a good view of them, “Be quiet.”

Byleth nodded before silently following Cyril’s lead and looking over the hill towards a well trodden path. 

Traveling on said path were what Byleth could only describe as two armored giants. As he looked closer, he realized a closer description would be giants _made_ of armor. Both massive figures looked to be the size of a small house each, easily comparable to the demonic beasts he’d fought in the past. They were covered head to toe in grooved metal armor, with a proportional shield and katar in their hands. Light blue glowing spots dotted their body. Each step they took seemed to slightly shake the earth.

In front of them, seemingly leading the two giants forward was a trio of pegasus riders, each with pale blue skin. Exactly like Solon and Kronya.

So these were the Agarthans he’d heard so much about. 

“Those giants behind them are the Titanus things I was telling you about,” Cyril explained quietly.

Waiting for several tense minutes as the group passed, Byleth almost began to reach for his sword until his companion stopped him.

“Don’t, it’ll take a lot more than the two of us to fight them off now.”

Byleth listened and withdrew his hand. Normally he would’ve just kept waiting for his foes to pass by. After all, what was the point of getting into a fight now? 

But something about them just seemed to… provoke him. He couldn’t describe it, but looking at them just gave him a sudden urge to confront them. Maybe it was the fact that their kind had taken the first place he ever felt like he belonged from him. Maybe it was some lingering hatred from his grudge against Kronya and Solon.

Maybe it had something to do with his dream last night.

“Alright…” Cyril observed, shaking Byleth out of his thoughts, “Looks like they’re gone.”

“I think we’re not too far from that forest you were talking about,” He remarked as he helped ease his wyvern into getting back up, “Could you check the map?”

Byleth nodded once again as he went through his bag to unfurl the wrapped map. Cyril was right. The forest was only around a mile or two away.

“We just need to go forward for a little while longer,” Byleth responded as he got back on the wyvern, who Cyril prompted to keep flying.

“Got it.”

The rest of the trip was relatively uneventful. In fact, the complete lack of any other travelers did more to unnerve Byleth then the patrol did. If he recalled correctly, this wasn’t an extremely popular merchant route, but there should be _someone_ out here.

Hopefully he wasn’t wrong about Claude’s location. Or alternatively, hopefully Claude hadn’t moved location or worse, gotten captured.

“Well, looks like we’re here,” Cyril said.

The forest certainly matched the description. Just standing at its edge, it was difficult to see more than a few feet into the misty forest. The ground was covered in tangles of ancient roots and scattered leaves.

“You might need this,” Byleth heard Cyril say as he tossed him a torch, catching him off guard enough that he fumbled with it for a moment.

“Er, thanks,” Byleth replied, slightly embarrassed by the moment of weakness.

Cyril began to remount his wyvern, “Sorry, but this is as far as I go. I need to get back to the Monastery and Lady Rhea before it gets too dark.”

Byleth knew the Almyran wouldn’t just leave Rhea for long. He began to walk into the forest before stopping, turning to face his companion.

“Cyril,” Byleth said after a moment of silence, “Thank you. For everything.”

“No problem Professor,” Cyril responded, “If you ever need help and you’re near the Monastery, just send a sign and I’ll be right there.”

“And if you ever need help,” Byleth finished, “Just send the word and I’ll do the same.”

Cyril sat on the back on his wyvern for a moment, “I will. See ya later Professor.”

“You too, Cyril,” The Professor responded.

And with that, Cyril signaled Dona to take off, and they soon flew into the distance.

Alone once again, Byleth took a moment to use a small fire spell to light up the torch before setting off into the wood.

Cyril certainly made the right call in giving him a torch. Without it he wouldn’t have been able to see his own feet within a few minutes of walking. The mist was somehow even more dense than it was at the entrance.

Byleth stopped suddenly when he spotted something on a nearby tree. Imbedded in the bark was an arrow, with little signs of aging or decay. It must’ve been shot into the tree recently.

As he made the observation, Byleth heard something unusual. Beyond the small crackle of his his torch burning, and behind the sounds of nature, he heard the distinct sound of a bowstring being pulled.

And then, immediately afterwards, a small gasp and the sound of a bowstring being reset.

Turning to face the sound, Byleth saw the source was someone clad in dulled orange. It took him a moment to recognize her due to the new outfit and hairstyle.

“Professor? No way…” Leonie whispered.

“Where is everyone?” Byleth asked with a small grin.

"Follow me," Leonie replied, too shocked to say anything else. His father's apprentice lead him through a hard to spot but clear path through the woods, eventually arriving at a series of ruins. To Byleth's surprise, the ruins were overrun with various villagers and soldiers, among them a few familiar faces. 

Not far from them, was Claude, busy discussing something with Hilda. They'd both seemed to have grown during those five years. Claude now had a small beard and was wearing golden noble clothing, complete with cape. Hilda, meanwhile, had grown out her hair, and her new black and pink outfit showed off significantly more skin then her academy uniform did. The two friends' conversation was interrupted when Hilda suddenly let out a gasp, covering her mouth in shock.

Claude turned around to see what his long-time friend was reacting to, only to find himself equally shocked at the sight of his thought to be dead teacher.

It only took the Alliance leader a moment to recover, cracking a sly smile.

“Well, looks like I’m seeing ghosts.”


	5. Golden Reunion

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Golden Deer reunite.

Alliance Camp

What followed was a night of reunions and celebration, as Claude called over the rest of the Golden Deer house to give their Professor a round of reintroductions.

“Where’ve ya been Professor!?” Raphael asked happily as he gave Byleth a suffocating hug. He was forced to tap on his shoulder to get the giant to stop.

“Oh, sorry,” He apologized.

“It’s good to have you back,” Ignatz replied, “We all thought you were dead.”

“You know I always had a hunch that you were out there somewhere-” Lorenz began to declare before being interrupted by a light hit on the shoulder from Leonie, “What? I’m telling the truth."

“I never would’ve thought,” Lysithea remarked, shaking her head slightly, “All these years, you were still out there.”

“What happened to you anyways?” Hilda asked.

“Where were you all this time?” Lysithea questioned.

“Were you with the Archbishop or…?” Marianne asked.

“Enough questions everyone, Teach just got back,” Claude said, quieting down the discussion, “Let’s go and have some dinner, I’m hungry and I’ve got a feeling he is too.”

Byleth, meanwhile, couldn’t stop smiling. 

It felt good to be home.

The class eventually made their way to one of the few ruins that still had some semblance of a roof left, which housed a massive table. From the look of it, Byleth guessed it was a planning room. But tonight, it was being used as a makeshift dining hall.

Byleth took up a seat next to Claude, who himself was at the head of the table. The rest of the Golden Deer were scattered along the sides.

Byleth felt proud, looking at his students. They all seemed to have grown as people, not just physically. Ignatz was being more enthusiastic about his artistic pursuits, chatting excitedly with Marianne about painting a picture for the occasion. Lysithea, for once, was just relaxing in the moment instead of throwing herself into her studies. Marianne herself even looked less depressed than usual. In fact, she actually looked _happy_ for once.

“So, Teach,” Claude elbowed him lightly, “Where were you for the last few years?”

The rest of the table quieted down, waiting for his answer.

“Well,” Byleth responded honestly, “After the attack, it felt like I was in a deep sleep. I woke up in a river downstream of the Monastery.”

“Huh, so you just slept for five years?” Hilda noted, giving an aside glance, “Must’ve been nice.”

“It didn’t feel like five years,” Byleth replied, “It was like, one moment I was falling, the next I was asleep, and then I woke up. It wasn’t instant, but it didn’t feel like that long.”

“You have any idea how you ended up in that river?” Lysithea asked, “We and the Knights searched for a while before we had to leave and we didn’t find a single sign of you.”

“I don’t remember,” Byleth admitted, “Everything after you guys left the tomb felt like a blur…”

“Well, you missed quite a lot,” Lorenz commented from the back of the table, “If you’d like to know what happened, I'd be glad to-”

“No need,” Byleth interrupted him, “Cyril explained everything when I found him.”

The table went silent, “As in, the one who was always doing everything around the Monastery, that Cyril?” Hilda asked.

“Yes,” Byleth replied, “I found him when I went up to visit the Monastery and he explained everything I missed. You all going back to the Alliance, the Agarthans, everything.”

When the table went silent again, Byleth realized he was missing something.

“We thought all the Central Church members left at Garreg Mach were wiped out,” Marianne admitted.

“Yeah, the Agarthans made a whole spectacle about it. Going around to every village to say they’d finally crushed the Servants of the Goddess, and how Garreg Mach would continue to serve as an example for any who opposed them,” Ignatz informed him, “We all thought he’d been killed with the others.”

“Or worse,” Lysithea added, looking shaken.

Byleth looked down, “He told me he was the last one left,” He admitted.

“Well, that certainly killed the mood,” Claude said as a cook brought in some food for the party, “We can always look on the bright side though, you’re alive, we’re alive, and at least they didn’t completely wipe out the Church. Anyways, let’s eat.”

The class slowly revitalized the conversations as they started eating.

“Why are all of you out here,” Byleth asked Claude quietly, “I knew you’d be out here, but I figured at least some of them would’ve gone back to their families.”

“I’ll tell you about it later my friend,” Claude said, taking up a piece of roasted game, “Now, let’s just celebrate.”

And so they did. 

He figured it was around midnight when they finished, though none of them had any way to tell the time. Claude had quietly asked him to meet him in the forest when they were done celebrating his return.

“So,” Byleth asked quietly as he approached the Golden Deer leader, “Why couldn’t you answer me before?”

“Didn’t want to sour the celebrations,” Claude admitted with a small smirk, “A morale booster is pretty valuable in times like these.”

“What happened?”

“Well, you heard about what the Agarthans did after you and Rhea disappeared, right?”

“More or less,” Byleth answered, “Cyril was a bit vague on the exact details.”

“I can’t blame him,” Claude admitted, “Honestly it happened so fast.”

“Basically,” He explained, “The Agarthans sent their emissaries out, using Garreg Mach as a warning. When the Empire and the Kingdom tried to call their bluff, they destroyed Fort Merceus and Arianrhod with a single hit each.”

Byleth had heard of both locations, fortress-cities, famed for being able to withstand and repel any assault. The fact that just one Javelin of Light each was enough to annihilate them was… concerning. 

“Cyril told me that they’d destroyed two forts to make them back down...” Byleth confided, “What happened after they surrendered?”

“Well, before either side could, their leaders were murdered,” Claude remarked, to Byleth’s surprise, “Apparently assassinated by their own heirs.”

“Dimitri and Edelgard…?” He could believe Edelgard would do such a thing to take power, mainly in light of the knowledge of her time masquerading as the Flame Emperor. But Byleth knew Dimitri would never try to harm one of the last remaining family members.

“Yeah, I didn’t believe it either,” Claude admitted, “After that, Lord Arundel and Duchess Cordelia took over the power vacuums and immediately surrendered.”

“What happened to Dimitri and Edelgard?”

“Both of them were arrested, stripped of their titles, and set to be executed,” Claude answered, “And both of them escaped before they could get to that last part. As for where they are now? No idea.”

Byleth was starting to understand why Claude hadn’t wanted to share this information at the dinner.

“So, what happened to the Alliance?” Byleth asked, noticing the lack of detail on Claude’s homeland.

“Well, that was its own brand of chaos,” Claude explained, “The Alliance was pretty evenly split down the middle as to whether we should surrender like the Empire and the Kingdom did, or if we should try to remain independent. 

“Eventually Duke Reigan,” He said his Uncle’s name with a bit of annoyance, “Decided it’d be better off if we just complied. We were hoping that we’d be able to stay off on the side while the Agarthans were focused on maintaining order in the Empire and the Kingdom.”

“And then,” Claude said, his expression darkening, “The Agarthans started making ‘Requests’.”

“Such as?” Byleth questioned, knowing he probably wouldn’t like the answer.

“Well, their very first one was that every child outside of ruling families with a Crest would be handed over to their custody.”

Byleth was disturbed, but not surprised.

“Why?”

“At first, we didn’t know,” Claude recalled, “But when the alternative is being made an example of like Garreg Mach, none of the Nobles wanted to ask too many questions.”

“The day after they announced it,” Claude remembered, “Lysithea showed up to my place at Derdriu, frantic. She told me she recognized the people the Agarthans had sent to retrieve their demands. The same masked mages we kept seeing with Solon and Kronya.”

Claude looked around to make sure they weren’t being watched by anyone, “She told me that, when she was young, those same mages were the ones who had… experimented on her. They’re the reason she has two Crests.”

Byleth already knew about Lysithea’s two Crests, and the fact that they were a guarded secret of hers. He had also suspected that they weren’t natural, considering how defensive she got when he had asked about the subject after a battle. But the fact that the Agarthans were responsible for them…

“The procedures they put her through… they were torture. And apparently, she wasn’t the only one who went through them. All of her siblings went through the same thing, but she was the only one who survived.”

Byleth nodded as the reality slowly dawned on him. Now that the Agarthans had effectively taken control of Fódlan, they no longer needed to operate in the shadows. Now, they were free to perform all their twisted experiments without a care.

He remembered Solon’s words about the massacre at Remire Village being an experiment and shuddered, imagining that horrific scene being replayed throughout the continent. 

Claude stopped, seeing his Professor’s unease, “Yeah, that’s what I thought too.”

“She begged me to tell Duke Reigan about what they did to her so that none of the people we were about to just hand over to those monsters would go through the same things her family did.”

“So we did. We told everyone, made sure every House from here to Enbarr knew exactly what they were planning to do. But…”

“It didn’t make a difference, the choice was either comply... or die.”

“Some of them were even _excited_ that their houses could be _graced_ by heirs with more than one Crest,” Claude remembered, disgusted. A sentiment that Byleth shared.

“And after that, they just started ramping up their demands. First they just wanted children from outside the immediate family, then anyone who wasn’t part of the ruling family, then anyone who wasn’t directly in power…” He trailed off.

“And eventually, they sent their troops to seize anyone with a Crest. Even if they were directly in charge. They didn’t care anymore.”

He looked up, now with a determined look, “So, Lysithea, Hilda, and I started gathering everyone in the Golden Deer with a Crest. We barely managed to convince Lorenz to go into hiding with us before one of the squads raided Gloucester.”

“I heard from some of the Knight’s reports that people with Crests were in hiding, but I never thought…” Byleth remarked, remembering the notes on villages thought to be hiding Crest-bearers vanishing overnight.

“It’s kinda ironic really. Before, having a Crest meant you were automatically in charge. Now, all it means is automatically having a target on your back.”

“And Duke Reigan?” Byleth questioned.

“Dead. The stress of all this combined with his poor health finally did him in. So technically, I’m the head of the Leicester Alliance. Or at least, what's left of it.”

“After he died and most of the Heads of the Alliance had either been taken or gone into hiding like we did, the Empire and the Kingdom moved in to take over all the vacant territory. All that’s left is a bunch of small resistance groups like this one.”

“And that’s pretty much it…” Claude finished, finally done with his story.

After a long silence between the two, Byleth finally spoke up, determined.

“So what’s your plan?”

Claude flashed a grin, happy his teacher knew him so well.

“Glad you asked. First step was to gather enough forces to fight back. And now that you’re here, I think we’re ready for the next one.”


	6. First Strike

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> With Byleth back at their side, the Golden Deer embark on an ambitious attack on an enemy outpost.

Alliance Camp

The rest of the night was spent planning their next move. Claude introduced his teacher to his new Relic, Failnaught. Swiped from House Reigan before Claude went into hiding. Byleth, meanwhile, shared the notes and rumors he’d gotten from Cyril, one of which piqued Claude’s interest.

“So, that’s where our favorite Blaiddyd ended up,” The schemer noted, looking over the spot on the map marked with Dimitri’s Crest, alongside a collection of rumors from Kingdom territory, “I knew he wouldn’t just lay down and die, especially after all those years of revenge vowing.”

“The ambushes in the area are excessively violent,” Byleth remembered from his time reading the papers, “Felix always mentioned that Dimitri could be brutal if pushed. Looks like he wasn’t exaggerating.”

“Yep,” Claude noted, taking out a smaller map of his own to cross reference with Byleth’s own, “Never would've guessed Mr. Knight-In-Shining-Armor could get so vicious.”

Claude took a pen and made a few notes on his own map before putting it away. From the familiar look on his face, Byleth guessed the Alliance Lord was thinking up a scheme at the moment. He didn’t bother asking about it though, knowing Claude would bring him the refined version in time.

“Anyways,” Claude continued, “I feel like it's time for me to let you in on my next little plot…”

Byleth smiled. About time.

The next morning, after breakfast, Claude called for the Golden Deer to meet him in the same tent they’d had dinner the night before.

“Alright everyone,” Claude said, spreading a map of the nearby area across his end of the table, “It’s been a while, but I feel like it's about time we started our next move.”

He pointed to a small fort on the map, “Our target is this checkpoint, known in the past as Fort Curan.”

“A long time ago, this Fort was the site of one of the early Alliance’s first major victories in the Crescent Moon War. Nowadays, it's a bit of a ruin. One which the Agarthans have saw fit to turn into a checkpoint to keep any resistance, like us, from getting from Myessin to Gloucester. So, we’re gonna change that.”

“Ah,” Lorenz interjected, “If we’re returning to Gloucester I’ll be sure to-”

Claude chuckled, “Hey, who said we were going to Gloucester?”

“Oh?” The former Gloucester heir remarked, bemused.

“You see, that’s the trick,” Claude said, to the confusion of most of the table, “The goal isn’t to open up passage for us to get to Gloucester. Rather, we’re to make them think we’re moving to Gloucester.”

“They’ll send reinforcements to Gloucester when they find their outpost raided. Especially since you,” Claude explained, gesturing to Lorenz, “Are known to be in our company. They’ll likely siphon off troops from one of their ‘Less Valuable’ garrisons nearby to make sure we don’t try and incite a revolution in Gloucester. Which conveniently leaves us with an opening to cut through Daphnel straight to Ailell.”

The table went into a small commotion upon hearing the last part.

“Ailell?” Hilda questioned, “You mean the Valley of Torment?”

“The very same,” Claude responded confidently, “We’re going to that lava pit for two reasons. One, I’ve managed to arrange for us and another Alliance resistance cell to meet up there, which means a fresh shipment of food, troops, and supplies.”

Confusion turned into excitement as the Golden Deer saw their chance to gain much needed relief. While they had been able to forage and trade for supplies around the area, pressure from Agarthan-loyal Kingdom and Imperial forces were making doing both more difficult by the day.

“And two, it means unguarded passage to Kingdom territory. But of course, that's only if we can get this first step done. And I’ll be leaving the briefing for that to our newly returned Teacher over here.”

Claude stepped back, allowing Byleth to step forward and take his place at the table.

“Our plan is a coordinated ambush, utilizing the caravans at our disposal as a cover for us to get inside without them realizing.”

The plan was simple. They'd disguise themselves as a merchant caravan. The first cart, the one that would be inspected first and thus would influence the defender's treatment of the rest, would be completely ordinary, carrying the typical goods merchants usually transported through the area. The remainder, however, would be hiding them and the Alliance troops that Claude had managed to gather. The plot had actually been Byleth's idea, though Claude helped immensely in refining it into its current state. 

“After we’ve all been allowed inside for inspection, we leap out and take the outpost with the element of surprise,” Byleth finished.

“And where will all of us be specifically?” Leonie asked.

Byleth began to point out each former student in order, “Raphael, Ignatz, Marianne. You three and I will be in the second cart,” He pointed towards Lysithea and Hilda, “Lysithea, Hilda, you’ll be in the third cart, along with a good portion of our troops.”

“Claude will be with the rest of the troops in the fourth cart,” Byleth explained, “Leonie, you and Lorenz will be apart of the small group of ‘Hired Guards’ who’ll be traveling with us.”

“You’ll have to be in disguise,” Claude admitted to Lorenz, “Can’t have them recognizing you too quickly.”

“I suppose I’ll just have to live with it,” Lorenz replied.

“Good. Any questions?” Byleth asked.

No one at the table had any problems.

“Alright, let’s get going then.”

The meeting dispersed, everyone going forth to gather their equipment and get into position.

“Hey!” Raphael announced, coming up to Byleth along with Marianne and Ignatz, “That was amazing Professor!”

“It was like we were back at the academy,” Ignatz added.

“It feels good to be back,” Responded Byleth, gratefully.

After a short period of packing up the camp’s supplies and tents, the group left the forest. According to Claude, Agarthan forces were beginning to realize their location, so they would’ve had to move anyways. Byleth was a bit weary that this would mean defeat could mean the collapse of the entire group, but reassured himself. It didn’t matter how many times he’d need to use Divine Pulse.

They were going to get through this. All of them.

Now, the only thing left to do was wait in the caravan. Ignatz and Raphael had taken quite a few steps to ensure it looked completely authentic on the outside, to the point of creating a new symbol for the fictional trading company. 

“So,” Byleth asked Raphael, trying to pass time until they reached their destination, “If it isn’t too rude, how’d you end up here?”

“What do ya mean Professor?”

“You, Ignatz, Leonie… None of you have Crests,” Byleth counted, “Claude only told me about how he managed to gather everyone from the Deer with Crests, but that doesn’t explain why you’re all here. What about your villages? And your sister?”

Raphael chuckled, “Well, we couldn’t just sit there while our friends needed our help!” He responded, “As soon as we heard about what was happening to people with Crests, all three of us went straight to Claude to help him set up this group.”

“Besides,” Ignatz added as Marianne was praying next to him, “The Agarthans make things hard for everyone. They might not hunt down Crestless people like us, but they don’t exactly place high value on our lives either.”

“As for Maya,” Raphael continued, “She’s fine. Hilda and I made sure she’s safe and sound with Holst’s group near Goneril.”

“She’s even started helping manage their supply routes,” He said proudly, “Just like Mom and Dad.”

“General Holst was one of the few Alliance leaders who heeded Claude and Lysithe’s message,” Marianne clarified when Byleth looked slightly surprised at the mention of Hilda’s famous brother, now done with her prayer, “He manages his own group of Alliance remnants in the East and occasionally sends us supplies and extra men.”

“It took Hilda a few days to convince him that she’d be fine with us,” Ignatz recalled, “It was actually Raphael deciding to leave Maya there that made him sure we could be trusted to keep her safe.”

Byleth smiled. His class seemed to have turned into a family of all its own.

Further conversation was interrupted when a light cough got Byleth’s attention, coming from the rear of the cart. He took a peek out, seeing Leonie was the source. She gave him a silent nod.

They were there.

The four of them went quiet, being careful not to give up the deception now.

They could definitely hear the sound of the cart in front of them being inspected. Someone searching around the supplies before giving an 'All-clear'.

Then, the sound of boots stepping around their cart.

After a minute that felt like hours, a pale blue face suddenly appeared between the sheets covering the rear of the cart.

And the last thing he saw was Raphael, bringing both hands down onto his head.

Raphael jumped out, followed by Byleth. Ignatz and Marianne weren’t far behind. 

They found themselves facing a woefully unprepared group of Agarthan brigands. In a flash, Byleth cut through one of them with his sword, while Raphael took down another two by flinging them around like ragdolls. The remaining one tried bring down an axe on the Grappler, only to be interrupted by Ignatz putting an arrow in their chest.

“It’s a trap!” A nearby Agarthan proclaimed, “Quickly, get the Titanus in here-”

The officer was silenced by a Miasma spell, courtesy of Lysithea. She emerged from her cart, levitating, followed by Hilda and a large group of soldiers.

“Let’s get this done with!” Hilda proclaimed, leading her troops against the now alert Agarthan garrison.

A Agarthan mage sent a Cutting Gale towards Claude’s cart, only for Claude, riding his personal wyvern, to soar out. The Alliance Lord had his mount swoop forward, taking the mage in its jaws. It pressed down with its teeth, making a loud crack before throwing the now dead mage away. Claude, meanwhile, began shooting out volleys of crimson arrows, taking down more than one Pegasus rider.

Byleth took a moment to look over the battlefield. The fort was ancient, but reinforced by some more modern repairs. They were currently in the middle of it, with Agarthan forces scattered by the surprise attack. Most of them were either scattered around the courtyard or hiding on the walls.

Most important, there was a Titanus at each of the two entrances. Both of which were rapidly becoming aware of the intrusion. 

Byleth barely had time to dodge when one of the mechanical menaces slashed the air with its Katar, sending an electric slash of energy flying towards him. He ducked down, the attack cutting a perfect mark into one of the fort’s walls.

Well, that explains some of the stranger aftermath he’d found, Byleth thought, mentally looking back at the perfect slices he’d found near the monastery.

Unfurling the Sword of the Creator’s whip form, Byleth swung his weapon towards the giant. It blocked the strike with its shield, but the Relic managed to leave a few cracks in the shield. 

“Claude!” Byleth signaled as his friend let out another volley of arrows, this time aimed towards the same Titanus he had just attacked. The creature again blocked the attack, but several of the shots got through. Claude’s excellent aim ensured that the ones that did go through hit several gaps in the being's armor.

The creature stumbled back, lowering its shield.

“Lysithea, finish it!”

Lysithea summoned up a series of Dark Spikes, aiming them at the creature. Unfortunately, before they could be brought down, an arrow suddenly impacted her thigh, breaking the young mage’s concentration.

The Titanus recovered from its stunned state as Byleth noted the location of the sniper. It raised its Katar toward Byleth.

However, the machine never got the chance to attack its foe. In a flash of colors, Byleth rewinded time back to before he gave the command to Lysithea.

“Ignatz, sniper on your right!”

Ignatz took one shot. The sniper fell off her perch with a dull thud.

“Lysithea, finish it!”

This time, the dark spikes weren’t interrupted. Lysithea droves each of them into various gaps in the golem’s armor. After a moment, the Titanus went limp and the blue lights all over its body faded. The magical spikes soon vanished as their caller went back into the action.

Byleth went to swing his sword into a nearby cavalier, who dodged and threw his javelin into his side. One time rewind later, the Agarthan’s flaming body fell from his horse, a victim of Byleth’s fire magic. As his foe’s horse fled from the battle, Byleth turned his attention towards dealing with the other Titanus.

Raphael and Leonie were taking turns fighting the towering golem. Raphael would use his immense strength to block the blows, while Leonie would dive in on horseback and stab her opponent with her steel spear. 

“Lysithea,” Byleth signaled, turning to her, “Get all the mages you can to focus a spell on that thing.”

The purple-clad mage nodded and sent a magical signal in the air. She quickly gathered a dozen mage troops, who began to chant a spell.

Meanwhile, the Titanus finally managed to knock Raphael down. It swung its blade down onto its weakened foe, only to find itself blocked. Hilda’s axe barely managed to hold back the blade, which dwarfed it, but it was enough for Raphael to roll out of the way.

Before the golem could attempt another attack, it was struck by a massive fireball. Lysithea’s mages cheered, their work complete.

“Now, before it can recover!” Byleth commanded. 

Marianne shot a beam of Thorton towards the giant, while Ignatz shot an arrow directly into the slit of its helmet. Lorenz rode in alongside them, adding a fireball into the mix with his magic.

The golem stumbled backward, pieces of armor falling off from the assault.

Claude finished the job with a single glowing arrow through the chest.

“Alright!” Claude said, landing his wyvern for a moment, “Now all thats left is to take out their commander and this place is ours!”

Byleth spotted said commander, an Agarthan falcon knight, rallying the remainder of her troops for one last attempt to defend their fort.

“We will not be routed by these _swine_!” The commander shouted, “We are of Agartha! We are the rightful inheritors of this world! Not them!”

“I beg to differ!” Claude announced, taking off and nailing the commander in the shoulder with an arrow. To his surprise, she wordlessly removed it from the wound and snapped it in her hand.

“Uh oh,” Claude said, maneuvering his wyvern to dodge a retaliatory hail of arrows.

Byleth held his sword forward, charging with the rest of the class. He sliced through a mage before using a cast of Bolganone to destroy an armored knight that was troubling Leonie.

Meanwhile, the Agarthan commander swooped through the battlefield, looking for a target. She found one when Raphael tossed a footsoldier in her direction.

“You are swine!” She declared, taking out what seemed to be a Levin Sword, “And you will be slaughtered!”

To Byleth’s horror, he spotted too late that her Levin Sword was different then the ones he’d seen before. Instead of a yellow lining, it had a blue one. It actually appeared to be made of different materials than a standard Levin Sword. The same materials the Titanus appeared to be made of.

“Here is some of the true power of Agartha!” She screamed, almost frothing in rage. In one motion, she swung out, creating a massive arc of blue electricity. Raphael took the brunt of the attack, though it arced to several nearby troops. The troops were blasted back, as if they had been hit by a thunder spell.

Raphel stood there, his body smoking. 

“I’m… sorry… Maya…” The giant Golden Deer student managed to get out before collapsing.

The reaction of the rest of the Deer was instant.

“Raphael!” Ignatz screamed, rushing to his best friend’s side. Marianne repeatedly casted Physic, to no avail. Their classmate was dead.

“No…” Byleth told himself.

The familiar flash that accompanied Divine Pulse covered the world around him as Byleth used Sothis’ power again.

“And you will be slaughtered!”

Byleth’s reaction was instant. This hadn’t been the first time one of his students would’ve been mortally wounded prior to his rewinds. Once again, he knew exactly what to do.

“Claude, shoot her down! Now!”

The schemer took aim at the Pegasus the commander was riding. He then, to Byleth’s amazement, jumped off of his wyvern in mid-air.

In one motion, Claude fired an arrow straight through one of the winged-steed’s wings. He then fell right back into the waiting saddle of his own mount.

That was a neat little trick.

The pegasus quickly found itself unable to continue flight, crashing into the ground. The commander jumped before her mount could make contact with the earth, taking out her advanced Levin Sword. She landed perfectly on the ground, intent on unintentionally reenacting the actions her enemy had just undone.

She began to raise her blade, which started to crackle with lightning as it had before it had unleashed its power last time.

This time, however, Byleth wasn’t letting her get the chance.

In one motion, he took his personal blade and whipped it forward, extending the blade into whip form.

Before the commander could finish her attack, the elongated Sword of the Creator speared into her stomach. It stayed there as her sword dropped to the ground, its owner still standing.

Byleth withdrew his weapon, allowing his foe’s body to drop forward, never to move of its own volition ever again.

They had won.

The rest of the Agarthans were picked off by the Alliance troops or fled, allowing the victors to inspect the fort they had won.

Byleth went to retrieve the Levin Sword. Whatever it was, it was powerful. The Agarthans were despicable, but their equipment could definitely prove useful, especially if they had more weapons like it.

“See teach, we still got it,” Claude noted, coming over with the rest of the Deer to congratulate their Professor, “Just like old times.”

“Yep,” Byleth noted, “This weapon… I’ve never seen anything like it.”

“What, that Levin Sword?” Claude questioned, leading to Byleth handing the weapon over to him, “What’s wrong with it?”

“It looks like it's been enhanced with the same type of technology used in those Titanus,” Byleth noted.

He had a headache. He figured it was all the adrenaline of being in combat after five years fading away.

“Interesting,” Lysithea observed, “Normally, Levin Swords are constructed with Wootz Steel, but this one seems to be made of something else...”

She began to go into an explanation of the difference in configuration of Arcane Crystals compared to traditional blades, but Byleth couldn’t focus. This headache was killing him.

In addition, his vision was beginning to distort. Shades of color were fading to grey, then returning as others faded in their place.

Something was wrong.

Before he could voice any of his issues, everything went black.

Byleth collapsed.


	7. Rest and Preparation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After Byleth recovers from passing out, Claude lays out the next step to the rest of the Deer.

Fort Curan 

Again, Byleth dreamed.

This time, there were no colored figures. Only the light green silhouette of a dragon, similar to the form Rhea had took. The dragon bore the Crest of Seiros in purple on its chest.

Suddenly, a large fireball exploded next to the dragon, who shielded itself with a wing until the attack dissipated.

However, despite seemingly protecting itself, the dragon cried out in pain. Tendrils of black corruption rapidly emerged across it's body before it fell to the ground, still breathing, but defeated.

Byleth woke up. 

Groggily opening his eyes, the Professor realized he was in a bed in a dark room. The walls were made of cobblestone. His thoughts raced as to where he was and what had happened since he blacked out. The last thing he wanted was to leave his students again like he had five years ago.

Fortunately, his worries faded when he managed to sight Lysithea peeking into the room.

“Professor,” Lysithea exclaimed, “You’re awake!”

“Yeah,” Byleth replied, “I think I’m fine now. Did I miss anything?”

Lysithea looked at him, concerned, “We were all worried sick that something was seriously wrong! Don’t go scaring us like that!”

She averted her gaze, “Besides, I wanted to ask you a few questions…”

Byleth got up and stretched, retrieving his jacket from the foot of the bed. He still had his usual outfit on in bed, as he usually did, but it didn’t feel right without the jacket. Even if he never seemed to actually wear it as anything other than a cape.

“If its about why I passed out, I’m trying to put that together myself,” Byleth admitted.

“No. Well, sort of.”

“Claude told you about what the Agarthans did to me when I was a child, right?”

“About the Crest Experiments, yes,” Byleth recalled.

Lysithea looked conflicted, “Did he tells you about the effects it had on my health as well?”

“No,” He replied truthfully, “But I figured it had something to do with your poor constitution.”

The younger mage looked embarrassed at Byleth bringing up her weak health.

“Anyways, I was wondering…” She trailed off, “I know that your life before you came to the Monastery is a bit of a mystery, other then the fact that you were with Captain Jeralt doing mercenary work.”

Byleth nodded. To be honest, he could barely remember most of the years before Garreg Mach himself. It was the first place that ever really felt like a proper home to him.

And now it was in ruins, he reminded himself bitterly.

“My point is,” Lysithea finished, “Do you have any idea if anyone could’ve done experiments to you during that time? Like they did to me?”

“No,” Byleth recalled, “Nothing like that.”

“Oh,” Lysithea said, looking worried, “It’s just… The way you collapsed, it reminded me a bit of myself.”

“Sometimes, when I stay up all night studying and practicing, I’d push myself past my limit. I’d wake up on the floor, or with my notes scattered everywhere…”

“And you do have a Crest nobody’s ever seen before. I just thought-”

“Lysithea,” Byleth addressed his worried pupil, “How I got my Crest is a complicated situation, one that I’m not entirely certain of myself,” He admitted, “But I can assure you that it had nothing to do with what happened to you and your family.”

“Alright,” Lysithea acknowledged, “Well, we should let Claude and the others know you’re alright.”

Byleth nodded in agreement before properly getting out of bed and following her outside of the room. 

He’d almost brought up how his father would’ve protected him from anyone who sought to kidnap and experiment on him like they did to House Ordelia, but stopped himself from saying anything. After all, Lysithea’s parents didn’t have any ability to stop the Agarthans from experimenting on her, or their other children.

Now, the question of what exactly caused him to pass out like that was a separate issue. It could’ve been the Agartha technology contained in that Levin Sword, but he hadn’t had any issues interacting with the other Agarthan weapons he’d faced before, like Kronya’s dagger. Nor did he have a problem with the Titanus that were certainly made using the same methods.

Then, the memory of the feeling of weakness after he’d used Divine Pulse to stop himself from falling down the side of Garreg Mach resurfaced. He realized he hadn’t actually used Sothis’ gift to him since he’d used it to save himself and the other students at the Holy Tomb, with two exceptions. The aforementioned use while descending the mountain, and during the battle for the fort they were walking through.

That was it, he realized. It was the Divine Pulse. The more he used it, the more toll it took on himself. That was why he’d lost consciousness.

He thought back to the last dream he had. The Javelins of Light. They must’ve done… something. Something that was making it more difficult to use Sothis’ power, at the cost of his own health.

Byleth could only hope this new limitation wasn’t permanent. He’d have to be much more frugal about the use of the ability from now on. 

“Hey, Teach. You sure you’re awake?”

Byleth snapped out of his thoughts. He and Lysithea had reached Claude’s room in the keep. He’d spaced out and the Reigan heir seemed to take it upon himself to call him back to reality.

The Professor shook himself, “Yes, I’m fine.”

“Ok, good,” Claude replied, “So, you have any idea what caused you to pass out back there?”

“I just overexerted myself,” Byleth lied, “It has only been about three days since I woke up after all.”

Not only would it have been… difficult to explain the source of his ailment, but he also didn’t want any of his friends to worry about him sacrificing his own health to save their lives.

“Make sense,” Claude admitted, “Anyways, our current plan is to stay here to recuperate for a few days, then get going before the Agarthan can send anyone to retake the place.”

“Go get some more rest if you need, we can’t have you falling down after every battle.”

Byleth nodded and excused himself, leaving Claude to his usual planning.

Going outside of the Fort’s keep, Byleth looked out to see that several of the caravan carts seemed to have unloaded some of their equipment, giving the troops and his students some time to relax and recover from the fight to take it. The bodies of the fallen garrison had been moved while he was out, while the derelict forms of the two Titanus that they had beaten laid right where they had fallen the day prior. It would’ve been too much effort to remove them, especially since their occupation of the fort was temporary.

Byleth quickly found where the convoy stored weaponry, seeing Ignatz and Lorenz examining the weapon he’d picked up from the fort’s former commander.

“Ah, Professor,” Lorenz noted as Byleth approached the two of them, “Me and Ignatz were just examining the blade you seized from the Agarthans yesterday. With my knowledge of magical weapons and his expertise in examination, we should have this fully analyzed in no time.”

“It definitely seems to be some kind of attempt to upgrade a Levin Sword,” Ignatz explained, “The arcane crystals seem to be enhanced, and it's definitely made of the same material the Agarthans usually use in most of their creations. They call it Agarthium. A bit egotistical if you ask me,” He added.

“Regardless,” Lorenz interjected, “They definitely appear to be successful in that regard. I’d say this weapon could rival even a Hero’s Relic. It's extremely powerful, and it doesn’t even require a Crest to be used safely.”

That was troubling. The power of a Hero’s Relic, available to anyone with the skill to use a blade. The Agarthans weaponry continued to both impress him with their power and disturb him with their efficiency. 

Byleth thanked the two of them for their help, and continued making his rounds around the Fort. Leonie and Marianne were tending to the horses, some of whom were wounded in the fighting, while Raphael and Hilda were sorting the supplies of the fort’s previous occupants. Or, to be accurate, Hilda was giving vague commands and observations while Raphael was sorting through the supplies.

Some things never change.

The next morning, Claude decided to call all of the Deer to yet another meeting.

“Welcome back everyone,” He announced as his classmates and teacher as they filed into Claude’s temporary command center in the fort’s keep, “Today’s discussion is going to be on how what exactly we’re gonna need to do to get into the Valley of Torment.”

“Fun times,” He snarked.

Hilda let out a loud yawn, “Claude,” She complained, “You sure this couldn’t have waited until later?”

The Alliance Leader looked at his close friend, amused, “Well Hilda, time is of the essense. After all, from the looks of things the Agarthans will probably be here in a day or two to take this place back. The earlier we get everything sorted out, the better.”

“Speaking of which,” Leonie commented, “I’m a little concerned that we’re just going to just practically hand them the fort back in one piece.”

“Well, that's part of my latest scheme,” Claude admitted, “We’re not going to be giving it back in one piece. Several actually.”

“And that means?” Lorenz asked.

“It means we’re going to make ample use of some of the gifts the previous garrison left when we kicked them out.”

“Oh, that,” Hilda admitted, “Me and Raphael found they had some blaze barrels left in their supplies yesterday,” She explained.

“You mean Raphael found some barrels while you watched,” Leonie joked.

“Hey!” Hilda protested, “I wasn’t watching. I was… supervising!”

Claude chuckled at the familiar defense.

“Anyways,” He continued, trying to get the conversation back on track, “The plan is that before we leave, we put the blaze barrels in some key locations. One detonation later and this place becomes a lot harder to use as a position then it was when we showed up.”

“But, after we do that, we do face the challenge of actually getting to Ailell. Judith and her forces can only stick around for so long, so we’re gonna need to get there quick.”

“Ah, Judith, the Hero of Daphnel,” Lorenz mused. The whole table knew of the famed commander, either from her brief visit to the academy or from the respect she had from the entire Alliance, “I should’ve guessed. Only someone like her would’ve been willing to meet us there, of all places.”

“Yeah yeah, moving on,” Claude remarked, “With that said, the fastest route to get to Ailell requires us to go straight through Cenere Village.”

“Cenere?” Byleth questioned.

“You’ve never heard of it?” Ignatz asked.

“Its a major trading village near the border of Daphnel and Galatea,” Claude explained to his Professor, “And because of that, there’s a good chance they’ll be some Agarthan or Kingdom forces stationed nearby.”

“Its a bit risky, especially since we can’t afford to start a battle there. But there’s no way we’ll be able to get to Ailell in time if we try to go around it.”

“So,” Claude continued explaining, “We go in disguise.”

“We’re reusing the same trick we just pulled here?” Hilda inquired, “You sure they won’t get a little suspicious?”

“Hopefully not,” Claude admitted, “This is gonna require some bits from all of us to work. We’re not just going to be waiting to jump out and ambush them this time. We need to really sell the part.”

He gestured at Ignatz, “Ignatz, we’re gonna need a new logo for our ‘Merchant Company’, just in case.”

“Got it,” The artist replied.

“Raphael, you’re gonna have to rearrange the caravan. We need to evenly distribute all our supplies across the carts now. Make sure to keep all the stuff they’d consider too suspicious out of sight.”

“Will do.”

“Hilda, Leonie, I’m gonna need you two to throw some disguises together. We can’t afford to be recognized and we can’t afford to stand out too much.”

He noticed their mutual displeasure on having to work with each other on the subject they always disagreed on, “Look, just get some stuff together that’ll look nice enough to convince them, but not distinct enough to make us look suspicious.”

“Alright,” Hilda admitted.

“Marianne, get all the horses ready for a long journey. We can’t afford any lost time spent tending to them, so make sure they’re as comfortable as possible the whole time..”

“I will.”

“Lorenz, you’re going to inform the troops of all this. We need everyone to behave while we’re there, so you’re responsible for them until we get to the Valley.”

“Consider it done.”

“Good. Lysithea, you’re with me. I’m gonna need some help rigging this place to blow, and I have a feeling a little magic will be a big help.”

“I already have a few ideas.”

“And Teach?” He finally turned to Byleth, “You, my friend, are going to play monitor while Lysithea and I are busy. Make sure everything’s going well with everyone and give them some help if they need it.”

Byleth nodded.

“Ok Golden Deer, you have your jobs. Let’s get to work.”

“If we don’t look fancy, they’re gonna think somethings up!”

“Hilda, think. When have you ever seen merchants dress in _formal wear?!_”

Byleth rolled his eyes. Hilda and Leonie were quick to call him over to get his opinion on the disguises, and equally quick to disregard said opinions in favor of arguing amongst themselves.

“Well,” Byleth interrupted, “Why don’t you just agree with what _I_ should wear and keep going from there?”

“Oh, Professor,” Leonie responded, embarrassed. She and Hilda seemed to have forgotten that he was still there, “Uh, you can probably just wear that coat you always have on.”

“Yeah, I don’t think _anyone's_ ever seen you actually wear it _as_ a coat,” Hilda admitted, “If you put the hood on I’m not even sure if _Claude_ would recognize you.”

He supposed they had a point there.


	8. Masquerade

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Golden Deer make their way through Cenere village, while Byleth reflects on the past.

Fort Curan

“...And then all we’ll need is one magical signal,” Lysithea explained, “That’ll cause these trails of gunpowder to ignite, which lead to the main barrels placed within the fort’s walls.”

“And boom, one minute this place is a decent fort, the next it's rubble,” Claude finished for her.

“Fascinating…” Byleth remarked. Lysithea’s lengthy explanation on the magical properties aside, the idea was actually quite simple. They merely had to get a safe distance, then Lysithea would use magic to detonate the charges from afar. They wouldn’t even have to waste an arrow.

“Alright, so Teach, everyone else ready?” Claude asked.

“Yes,” Byleth reported, “Hilda and Leonie are done making disguises, Rapahel and Ignatz have the carts packed, ready, and authentic, Lorenz has all the troops prepared, and Marianne has the horses ready for miles of travel.”

“Good, good…” Claude pondered, “All that’s left is a good night's sleep and we’ll be ready to go in the morning.”

And with that, Lysithea and Byleth went off to get some rest, leaving Claude alone.

However, despite Claude’s orders, Byleth found himself unable to fall asleep that night. 

Deciding a walk would clear his head, the Professor left his bed and decided to wander the keep. At least until he tired himself out enough.

He took a look out of one of the windows, staring at the full moon. His thoughts drifted to the whereabouts of all the other students. The Blue Lions, the Black Eagles… 

Back at the Monastery, even if they weren’t in the same classes, or went on the same missions, they still all cared for each other. The events at the tomb proved that. For some of them, like Bernadetta and Ashe, their classmates were the only family they had left.

And now, in this… mess that the world's become, where were they now? Lonato was dead, by the Golden Deer’s hands. Count Varley was a monster, one that would’ve happily sent poor Bernie straight into the Agarthans’ hands without a thought. Even the others, the ones with entire dynasties behind them, weren’t safe. No one with a Crest was anymore, and even those who lacked them would be forced to watch as their friends were sent away, likely never to be seen again. Nevermind what could happen if their attempts at resistance weren’t as successful as the Golden Deer’s.

Byleth said a silent prayer.

Please, let them be safe.

Meanwhile, Claude was in the middle of disregarding his own advice. He was in his third hour of planning, still having not gotten a second of sleep.

He heard someone open the door, looking up while simultaneously subtly reaching for Failnaught, only to be relieved that it was just Byleth.

“Can’t sleep either huh?”

“No,” Byleth admitted, “Up late plotting again?” He asked, gesturing to the various maps spread across the table Claude was leaning over.

“Honestly, my friend, do you really think there’s a time when I’m _not_ plotting something?” He let out a small chuckle, while Byleth gave a small smile.

“I was thinking,” Byleth went on, “Would your plans happen to include trying to find any of the other students?”

Claude looked at his teacher, surprised, “Whoa, teach. Stop reading ahead. I don’t have that draft finished yet.”

Byelth leaned against the wall, “I had a feeling.”

Claude shrugged, “Well, ya caught me. And I’m sure you’ve figured out by now my _other_ reason for wanting a way into Faerghus.”

“You want to recruit Dimitri?”

“Either you know me well, or you can read minds,” Claude conceded, “Look, I’m not blind. I know that as we are, we aren’t exactly enough to seriously start making real progress against the Agarthans.”

“But, if we can get Dimitri, that might just be the edge we need,” He explained, “Not to mention, I’m fairly sure he won’t be alone if we do.”

Byleth looked interested, “What do you mean?”

“Well,” Claude began, putting his hands behind his head, “We know Dedue won’t leave Dimitri for anything. Even if he dies, I bet he’ll just crawl his way back from the grave to keep following him.”

“Meanwhile, Sylvain, Ingrid, and Felix are all childhood friends of his. The kind that wouldn’t leave him alone when he’s at a low point like he is now. Not to mention, they all have Crests. If they’re still alive I’d bet my crown that they’re with him.”

“You have a point,” Byleth replied.

“But,” Claude admitted, “The issue is that I have no idea where to start looking for him.”

He gestured towards the collection of maps and notes he’d been studying.

“All this info and I still can’t get a good lock on where he might be.” 

He pointed at the Crest of Blaiddyd on the map Byleth himself had provided.

“He could be anywhere in those mountains. They’re absolutely littered with old forts and encampments.”

“I’m honestly not sure where to start,” He admitted, “It’s what's been keeping me up all night.”

Byleth smile faded as he averted his gaze.

“And Edelgard?” He asked quietly.

Claude’s expression similarly darkened, “I don’t know.”

He put his finger to his chin, recalling, “Admittedly, she’d probably just as valuable as Dimitri. But…”

“Look, I may be all for using underhanded means to get ahead,” He admitted, “But the things she did as the Flame Emperor… That’s crossing a line. Especially when it all ended up leading to… well, you know..”

“I want to know why,” Claude admitted, looking at his teacher only to find him staring at the ground, “What could’ve possibly been worth all this suffering?”

Silence passed between the two for a moment as they reflected.

“Hell, even if she had an answer, would you forgive her?”

Byleth stayed quiet for a while before responding.

“I don’t know.”

“I’ll admit, I kinda like it,” Claude remarked, trying on the bandana Hilda had procured for his disguise. Ironically, their leader’s role to play was that of the fairly low position as a simple Almyran trader. The rest of the Golden Deer were similarly busy getting dressed in the various outfits Leonie and Hilda had picked out.

“A mask?” Lorenz asked, staring at the last piece of his outfit, “Really?”

He tried it on, sighing, “I must look like Jerizta…”

“Oh relax buddy,” Rapahel remarked from inside the heavy plated armor Leonie had given him, borrowed from one of the soldiers who wasn’t going to need it during the trip anyways, “You’re fine.”

“Alright everyone!” Hilda announced, wearing her Dancer outfit she’d earned from the White Heron Cup, along with having her pigtails undone to help distance it from her usual look, “We gotta get going!”

And with that, the Golden Deer went to their respective roles. Leonie and Ignatz were basic caravan escorts on horseback, Hilda and Lorenz were a pair of traveling actors, Claude was a simple merchant, and Raphael was a caravan bodyguard. Lysithea and Marianne were simply hidden under bundles of robes and cloaks, while Byleth… simply wore his hood.

“Alright, now if everything goes as it should…” Lysithea said, slightly muffled under her oversized cloak, having just cast a small spell once they were about 10 minutes away from Fort Curan, “The barrels should ignite just about-”

She was cut off by the sound of several of the walls of the fort detonating in the distance, followed by debris impacting the ground. The resulting plume of black smoke was visible for miles.

“And down goes Fort Curan,” Claude commented, looking out the back of a cart with Lysithea and Byleth, “What a shame such a historic location has to fall so ignobly.”

He leaned back into the cart, “Still, better off being rubble then under the control of the Agarthans.”

Byleth had to agree.

The rest of the trip until they got to Cenere Village went quickly. Aside from taking the occasional glance at the countryside and some small talk, there wasn’t exactly too much to do.

The caravan pulled into the village. Several of the Golden Deer, Byleth included, glanced out of their respective carts to get a view of the area.

Byleth thought it was actually quite refreshing to finally see an active village for the first time in five years. Children were running around playing tag while their parents did their jobs, like chopping wood or forging tools and other trade goods. There were dull grey flowers growing in the grasses. Not to mention, non-burnt or otherwise destroyed houses, including some seemingly newly built ones.

Even after everything, life still went on.

The caravan suddenly stopped, to Byleth’s concern.

“We’re in a bit of a jam right now,” Ignatz explained, pulling up on his horse to the side of Byleth’s cart, “Apparently a fruit cart lost a wheel on the road, so until someone can get it across we’re stuck.”

Byleth turned to Claude, concerned. The Reigan heir didn’t share the sentiment, leaning with his hands behind his head against the tarp, “Don’t worry, I accounted for stuff like this. Just relax, as long as its cleared up in an hour or two we’ll still have time.”

Byleth relaxed slightly. He looked at Lysithea, who was busy reading through one of her spellbooks, studying as usual.

“If you say so…” He said, turning back to Ignatz, “But if it starts taking too long, see if you can get Raphael to help them clear it,” He recommended.

“Will do Professor,” Ignatz said, trotting his horse ahead.

Byleth still couldn’t help but feel on edge as he kept glancing out the cart’s back. He wasn’t sure if it was just the somewhat lacking sleep he had last night, but he felt like they were being watched.

Out of the corner of his eye, he spotted a flash of pale blue skin. He began to go for his sword, which was carefully hidden under his coat. 

Turning to look at the potential threat, Byleth saw that the thing he’d seen was actually a small girl, darting along merchant stalls.

“Ooooooo, I’ve never seen one of these before!” She proclaimed excitedly, taking a small puppet from a woodcarver’s stall. The girl was definitely Agarthan, her skin clearly being the same pale blue shade they all seemed to have, but she couldn’t have been older than 10. Her ginger hair was tied into a small side plait, which reminded him of Mercedes.

“Hey kid, give that back before I-” The shopkeeper began to protest before the girl was rapidly flanked by a pair of Armored Knights, who glared at the man.

“A-Actually, keep it.”

“Really?” She asked innocently.

“Y-yeah, free of charge,” The shopkeeper responded, intimidated by her fully armored protectors, “I insist.”

“Woah, thanks mister!” She replied, hugging the puppet before darting off to look at another stall, trailed by the knights. One of them gave one last glare to the shopkeeper before following his charge.

Byleth sighed, withdrawing his hand from the handle of his Relic. It was just a little girl after all. An Agarthan girl, but still, they had to have children too.

He sat back as the cart began to move forward slowly. It seemed like the obstacle in their path had at least started being removed.

“See,” Claude assured, still leaning back against the tarp, “Nothing to worry about-”

“Hey where are you going?” Interrupted an excited young voice.

Claude nearly fell through the tarp. Byleth, meanwhile, nearly jumped out of his seat.

The Agarthan girl Byleth had observed was clinging onto the back of the cart. She must’ve jumped onto it when she spotted them moving.

“Are you traveling traders?” She asked cheerfully as Byleth tired to retract his head into as deep into his hood as possible, trying to hide his extremely recognizable bright mint hair. Claude and Lysithea were doing the same, with Lysithea having more success considering she actually had robes to hide in. Claude was settling for just pulling down his bandana further down his forehead.

“Do you know any cool places to visit? Like-”

“Alina, get down from there,” A voice commanded, somewhat gruffly. 

“Oh,” The girl said, turning to face the source.

She turned back to the three Golden Deer in the cart, “Sorry,” She apologized sincerely, “Goodbye!”

She gave them an energetic wave goodbye before jumping off the cart and returning to her protectors.

“Can you believe this,” Byleth overheard, slightly distorted due to the speaker’s helmet, “Chilon’s daughter, associating herself with the beasts.” 

It seemed to be one of Alina’s two armored protectors. 

“She’s too young to know better,” He heard the other say, “In time she’ll learn.”

“Come along now,” The first knight said, louder so their charge could hear them, “We must be going. Your father might be getting worried.”

Byleth, Lysithea, and Claude heard heavy footsteps which grew quieter as their cart began to pick up speed.

Claude was the first to let out a big sigh of relief. 

“You know, of all the things I planned for,” He reluctantly admitted, “An Agarthan kid nearly catching us was not one of them.”

“At least it was her and not those guards,” Lysithea said, trying to rearrange the now ruffled brown robes she was wearing.

“Everything alright back there?” They heard Hilda question from the cart ahead of them, nearly startling the three of them once again.

“Er,” Claude admitted, shouting slightly so Hilda could hear them through the tarp, “Yeah. We’ll explain later!”

Eventually, the caravan exited Cenere. And once they were properly on a somewhat hidden route to Ailell, the Golden Deer and their forces got out to both stretch and put on their proper uniforms and equipment.

“So you nearly compromised by a _child?_” Lorenz repeated, amused and now wearing his usual purple armor. 

“Look, to be fair,” Claude defended, embarrassed, “I don’t think she would’ve known who we were even if she did get a chance to get a good look at us.”

“Well, it's in the past now,” Hilda noted, “What matters is we got through there and no one recognized us. So it's basically a win in my book.”

Claude sighed again, “You’re right.”

“Shall we continue on to the Valley?” Lorenz questioned, “I believe everyone is ready.”

“Yeah,” Claude replied, “The less time we have to spend there, the better.”

Unbeknownst to the Alliance group, two figures _had_ recognized them. And now, they were following their caravan on foot.


	9. Valley of Torment

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Golden Deer find their meeting with Judith ambushed by the forces of House Rowe. However, this leads to an unexpected reunion.

Ailell 

Byleth, the Golden Deer, and a small group of soldiers were busy advancing down the valley. They couldn’t exactly bring the whole caravan, especially considering the valley’s volcanic nature. So, after leaving the troops that didn’t come with them to guard the convoy, the class began the journey to the meeting spot Judith had promised to meet them.

And despite ample usage of heat-resistance potions and magical help from Marianne and Lysithea, the Golden Deer couldn’t shake the feeling that they were about to start melting in the heat.

Claude, Leonie, and Lorenz at least had the fortune to be on their respective mounts. Everyone else… weren’t so lucky.

“Ugh, why is it so hot?” Hilda complained, “I’m getting all sweaty!”

“Well, it isn’t called the Valley of Torment for nothing,” Leonie reminded her.

“That actually reminds me,” Marianne commented, “There’s an old legend about this place.”

“According to the legend,” She recalled, “This land was born from the wrath of the goddess. Angered by the actions of the people, she summoned a pillar of light from the heavens and…” She stopped, her eyes going wide. A reaction that was shared by the rest of the group.

“...Burned away the forest that used to be here…”

_That_ certainly sounded familiar.

“You sure the goddess was the one that did this?” Claude questioned, realizing the implications.

“Well, it never was in any of the scriptures…” Marianne admitted.

Could this place be another victim of the Agarthans? 

“How long have they been-” Claude began to wonder before being interrupted by Lorenz.

“We can discuss this later Claude. Look over there.” He gestured towards a shape in the distance.

It took Byleth a moment to realize what Lorenz was talking about. Perhaps it was Judith and her forces.

However, as cobalt banners came into view, he realized that the forces approaching them were definitely _not_ the ones they had come here to meet.

“That’s House Rowe’s banner,” Claude remarked, “That’s… not good.”

Byleth glanced towards him, silently wanting an explanation.

“House Rowe were one of the main benefactors of the power vacuum from the Crest purges,” He explained to his teacher, “They took a lot of land from Houses whose leaders either got taken or fled. And since they’re loyal to Duchess Cornelia, that means they’re also loyal to the Agarthans.”

“What are they doing here?” Hilda asked.

“They must’ve been sent to guard the valley,” Lysithea replied, “Looks like Claude’s idea that they’d devote all their forces to Gloucester wasn’t entirely correct.”

“Better them then the main Agarthan forces…” Ignatz said quietly.

“House Rowe is mediocre and vulgar, but I hear their knights are powerful,” Lorenz remembered.

“What about Judith’s group?” Hilda asked worriedly, “You don't think…”

“Judith will be fine,” Claude replied, “It would take a lot more than that to take her down. We just need to focus on getting rid of them.”

And with that, the group got into fighting positions.

“The Valley of Torment... Perhaps a good place to finish off my life as a knight,” The enemy commander, an elderly heavily armored Great Knight, mused, “Only if that puny force of children is able to kill me, of course…”

“Looks like their commander is that stubborn-looking old man,” Claude reported, having used his spyglass to get a good look at the enemy forces from the back of his wyvern, “He looks like he wouldn’t forgive a sobbing child, so diplomacy is pretty much out the window.”

“And here comes the first wave…” Byleth observed, spotting a force of cavalry making their way towards their position.

Claude nodded and turned to face the rest of his forces, “We’re going to have to press through until we can meet up with Judith!” He announced, “And if you don’t want to be burned to a crisp, watch your step! This place is terrible.”

“Teach, lead the way,” He said, turning back to Byleth.

The Professor gave him a nod, “Ignatz, Marianne, Leonie, Hilda, on me. Lorenz, Raphael, Lysithea, you’re with Claude,” He commanded.

“Let’s go.”

Claude made the first strike by shooting one of the charging knights off their horse with one of his signature glowing arrows.

“Keep moving forward, but don’t let them get close!” Byleth recommended, causing Leonie to switch to her throwing spears. 

The mercenary threw one into one of the horsemen, causing his body to hit the smoldering ground a moment later. 

Ignatz, meanwhile, managed to do the same with a shot from his bow. His second one only managed to graze its target, but the cavelier didn’t get much further before a Thoron from Marianne put him down.

“It doesn’t feel right fighting Kingdom guys instead of Agarthans,” Hilda noted as she hit another enemy with a thrown hand axe.

“Maybe, but its either us or them!” Rapahel responded, knocking one of the few horsemen who managed to get close off his horse with a punch.

Slowly, the group managed to advance forward through the stream of cavalry, eventually reaching a few groups of archers, armored knights, and mages.

Claude rolled his wyvern in mid-air over a lava pit to dodge an arrow from one of the enemy archers, “Hey, I think I can see Judith up ahead,” He informed Byleth, before returning the favor with a much more accurate shot. 

The split second of distraction allowed one of the armor knights to attempt to attack the Professor. Fortunately, Byleth’s reaction time was faster than the knight’s axe, allowing him to intercept the blow by clashing his weapon with the knight’s own. Following a brief struggle, Byleth casted a small fire spell into the knight’s helmet, allowing him to escape to blade lock. He followed this by slashing the knight across the chest, ending him.

His opponent vanquished, Byleth took the opportunity to look across the lava flow to where Claude was facing. There, he spotted none other than Judith herself, defeating a similarly armored opponent with a few strikes from her rapier. With her were a small group of Wyvern Riders and foot soldiers.

The Hero of Daphnel wiped some sweat off her forehead with her spare hand, taking a glance across the battlefield toward the enemy commander.

“Oh, old Gwendal is here,” She remarked, revealing the name of their adversary, “And he doesn't look to be an ally…”

The scarred general seemed to have also noticed Judith’s arrival.

“Oh, the Hero of Daphnel is here!” He declared, somewhat happily, “I'll expect more from her than the young ones…”

The Golden Deer continued to push forward, taking down more and more of Gwendal’s forces along the way. 

Ignatz fell back, wounded by a lucky shot from an enemy archer. While Marianne went to heal him, the artist spotted something behind the group.

“Everyone, they’re ambushing us from behind!” 

“Here we go!” The leader of the group of horse mounted ambushers declared, riding forward toward the Deer.

Once Ignatz was sufficiently healed, he managed to put an arrow through one of the riders. Claude did the same, followed by Hilda hitting, but not killing, another with a second hand axe. Byleth took another down with a jet of fire from the ground, courtesy of a cast of Bolganone.

“Keep moving forward!” Byleth shouted, “If we want to break their ranks, we need to take out the commander!”

A squad of lance-wielding cavaliers attempted to rush towards Byleth’s squad, only to find themselves obliterated by a barrage of Dark Spikes from Lysithea. One of the bodies was flung off its horse in the resulting dust cloud, landing at Byleth’s feet. 

The Professor gave a brief nod of thanks towards the mage, which she returned.

Meanwhile, Judith and her wyvern riders were fighting off more of Gwendal’s armored knights and cavalry. Simultaneously, Claude’s group had reached the commander himself.

“Don’t underestimate us!” Leonie cried as she began her charge towards the scarred knight.

“Does a whelp like you really expect to kill me?” He questioned as he directed his own steed forward to meet Leonie’s attack, “I am Gwendal, the Gray Lion, a knight by the hand of Count Rowe! Do your worst!”

Their charges met. Leonie’s lance barely managed to graze Gwendal’s armor, while the mercenary herself barely managed to avoid getting hit by her opponent’s mighty silver axe.

“Allow me!” Lorenz announced, making a similar charge. His lance had more success in hitting the knight, but the Gray Lion managed to hit Lorenz with a powerful counterattack.

Claude, covering Lorenz before Gwendal could follow up, fired a volley of three arrows. Each one was met by the old man’s Lampos shield, though they managed to slightly pierce through.

“Lysithea!” Byleth commanded, his group struggling with the remaining mages and infantry, “Now!”

Gwendal looked towards who Byleth was issuing commands to, finding her holding her hand to the sky. Above the Gray Lion hovered several of the prodigy’s signature Dark Spikes.

Thinking quickly, the knight raised his shield to the sky right as Lysithea directed the Spikes downward. Another puff of smoke appeared around the knight, leaving it unclear to the group if his defense had worked.

As it cleared, the answer revealed itself. Gwendal seemed to be unharmed, but his shield bore several massive cracks. After a moment, it just seemed to disintegrate into dust and shards.

“Heh,” He admitted, “Perhaps I’ve underestimated you all…”

He raised his axe, “No matter!”

This time, he charged towards Lysthiea, raising his axe to cleave her only to find himself blocked by Raphael and his gauntlets.

Deflecting the axe to the side, Raphael took a swipe with his claws, drawing blood from the knight’s side.

Leonie followed up the attack, charging with her lance. The two mounted warriors clashed, axe against lance. Gwendal’s strength allowed him to easily break Leonie’s guard, but she was ultimately too fast for him to land a hit.

Eventually, it came down to a final charge at each other, while the entire battlefield around them seemed to freeze. In slow motion, Leonie dodged Gwendal’s final axe spike, impaling him through the chest with a lance jab.

As their horses slowed, Leonie looked to see that her lance was still stuck in Gwendal as she rode away. Gwendal, meanwhile, looked down at his impalement calmly. He quickly fell off of his horse, which stayed by its rider’s side.

“Ah, so I have found a place to die…” The old knight remarked serenely, laying on his back and looking up at the sky, “Young ones... I thank you…”

And with that, the Gray Lion closed his eyes and went still.

After the rest of House Rowe’s forces had scattered, Claude and Byleth went to meet with Judith while the rest of the Golden Deer tended to their wounds.

“To think we’d get into a scrap here of all places,” Judith admitted, “We’re lucky we all made it out alive.”

“Sorry for involving you in all this,” Byleth apologized.

“Don’t worry about it. Honestly, its been a miracle I’ve been unscathed for so long,” She responded, “Anyways, long time no see Professor! Apparently those rumors of your death were greatly exaggerated.”

Claude rubbed the back of his head.

“You still watching this boy’s back?” She questioned, referring to Claude.

“Can you quit it with that?” Claude remarked, annoyed, “Look, you have the supplies we need?”

“We certainly do,” Judith replied, pointing out a large cart of supplies being brought up by her wyvern riders, “You’ll have enough to maintain your current forces for a month or two. I’ve also decided to trust you with a handful of my wyvern riders.”

“These soldiers are very precious to me,” She told the two of them sternly, “So they better be coming back in one piece.”

“Would you be interested in joining our group?” Byleth asked, hoping to gain another ally.

Judith let out a brief chuckle, “Honestly, in different circumstances, I would agree in a heartbeat.”

“But,” She continued, “I have my own people to take care of. So you’re just going to have to settle for some of my finest.”

“Thank you,” Claude said sincerely, “Also, did you manage to get the message to Nardel?”

“The messenger came back about a day ago,” Judith confirmed, “Said he agreed to your plan. Now all he’s waiting for is a signal.”

“Nardel?” Byleth questioned.

“Oh right,” Claude remembered, “I never got the chance to tell you.”

“You’ve never meet him, Professor?” Judith commented, interrupting Claude’s start of an explanation, to the latter’s embarrassment, “One of the boy’s retainers. A quite special individual. And quite handsome too!”

“So that's your definition of handsome?” Claude snarked.

“Anyways, we should get going,” He admitted, “Hopefully, we can work together again soon Judith.”

“Same to you, boy,” She responded, “Good luck.”

The Golden Deer, new troops and supplies in-hand, journeyed back to the location of the main caravan. As Judith’s troops began to unpack their equipment, Byleth and Claude were approached by one of the troops left to guard the area.

“My lord,” He greeted Claude formally, “We’ve spotted two figures approaching our position on foot.”

“Only two?” Claude asked, slightly confused. Byleth shared his reaction. After all, if they were followed he was sure there would at least be a small squad.

The guard nodded, confirming the number.

“Alright I wanna see this for myself,” Claude commented as he and Byleth approached a scouting position on the cliffs of the Valley.

Claude took out his spyglass, glancing around until he seemed to spot the figures the guard had spoke off.

“No way...” He commented, surprised, “Teach, you might wanna take a look at this.”

He handed the spyglass to Byleth, who had a brief moment of confusion looking around before Claude manually turned him towards what he’d been looking at.

There was certainly two figures following the path they’d traveled up. 

One of them was wearing a tattered, dull blue coat, with various belts holding on sword sheaths and a shoulder pad, along with a fur-lined cloak. His hair had grown and was now slicked back, but Byleth still recognized the face. 

Felix.

For his companion, however, Byleth had to put down the spyglass and rub his eyes to make sure he wasn’t seeing things. But, no, he wasn’t mistaken.

Of all people, Felix was traveling with _Bernadetta._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I bet you thought Ashe was going to show up here, didn't you?


	10. The Shy Archer and the Wandering Swordsman

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bernadatta explains why she and Felix are traveling together. Felix informs Claude and Byleth of Dimitri's current whereabouts.

Ailell

Felix and Bernadetta continued their march up the hill, with both of them occasionally taking glances backwards to make sure they themselves weren’t being followed.

“Well well well,” A voice said from nearby, “What are you two doing here?”

Felix’s hand instantly went for his sword, while Bernadetta fumbled for her bow and arrows.

“Whoa, Whoa,” The voice went as the pair’s gaze found the source on a nearby ledge, Claude, sitting atop a wyvern, “Calm down. I mean, you two were trying to find us, right?”

Bernadetta let out a sigh of relief as she lowered her bow. Felix retracted his hand from her side, but maintained his usual stand-offish gaze at Claude.

“Yet, it seems like you’ve found us,” The swordsman remarked.

Claude jumped off his mount, dusting off some ash when he landed. He was quickly joined by a figure in black who they didn’t quite recognize. After a moment, they both realized it was none other than their thought to be dead Professor.

“P-Professor?” Bernadetta questioned, not believing the sight of somewhat she thought died five years ago, “Is that you?”

Byleth smiled. It looked like at least some of his prayers for the safety of the other students had been answered.

“Yes, it's me.”

Felix was more composed in his reaction, raising an eyebrow, “Hm. A welcome surprise.”

The purple haired-recluse ran up to give him a hug. Byleth observed that she’d grown a bit during his time asleep. He almost hadn’t recognized her with her new hairstyle.

Felix came up behind her, extending his hand for a handshake, which Byleth took.

“We all thought you were…” Bernadetta remarked, trying to find the right word, “You know. Dead.”

“So did we,” Claude replied, “But you know, Teach does have a habit of subverting expectations.”

“I’ll admit, it's… refreshing to see you again,” Felix muttered. Still the same standoff-ish attitude from five years ago.

“Anyways,” Claude said, “It’s nice to see you two again and all, but you still haven’t answered my question. What are you doing here?”

“Well, um, we’re actually here to join up with you…” Bernadetta admitted.

“And,” Felix added, “I’ve come for an audience.”

“With who?” Claude asked.

“You, of course,” Felix replied, “I wish to see if you’d be willing to… assist the Boar.”

Both Claude and Byleth’s eyes widened in surprise at the mention of Felix’s nickname for Dimitri. They looked at each other, both gaining a small grin.

“You know, I’m still not the religious type,” Claude remarked to the Professor, “But I think someone’s answering our prayers after all.”

Felix and Bernadetta’s reintroduction to the group wasn’t subject to nearly as much surprise as Byleth’s own, after all, they thought they’d seen him die years beforehand. Still, the Golden Deer were still happy to see some of their other classmates alive and well.

“It’s good to see you two again,” Leonie said, coming to meet the two of them.

“Yeah,” Bernadetta replied, “Uh, you too, Leonie.”

“What I’m wondering,” Lysithea questioned, “Is why you two are traveling together?”

“What do you mean?” Felix responded.

Raphael joined in, “Well, of all people, I don’t think any of us expected you two to wind up together. How’d it happen.”

Bernadetta blushed, embarrassed, “Uh, umm, we aren’t… What do you-”

“He means how did you two meet up.” Leonie clarified, sparing the girl some further stuttering.

“Oh!” Bernadetta realized, “That’s… actually a long story.”

“Come on Bernie, just do what Petra taught you…”

The purple haired girl aimed her bow at the stag from her spot inside a bush. She didn’t exactly want to harm such a peaceful creature, but she needed to eat. It'd been days since she's had anything other than a few berries or apples. And she couldn’t exactly go to a nearby village, they were all under heavy Agarthan occupation. 

She didn’t run away from home just to end up being caught by their Crest hunters anyways.

“Ok, it's food. Not an enemy. Food.” She muttered to herself, trying to steady her shot.

She readied herself. Just one clean hit, and she’d have food for at least a day or two. Her confidence swelled, her aim stopped shaking. The huntress was ready to get the prey.

All of which was destroyed the second she heard a few footprints nearby.

“EEP!” She yelled, shooting an incredibly inaccurate arrow at the stag. The attack sailed clean over it, landing in the brush. The deer, detecting the threat, leapt into the woods, never to be seen again.

Bernadetta threw herself deeper into the bush, hoping to completely cover her small form with the leaves. She may be going hungry tonight, but she refused to be caught. Sure, she may have screamed a little bit, but for all they knew that could’ve been any fugitive hiding in a forest in the middle of Kingdom territory. Right?

Her hopes were proven wrong when the distinct curved blade of a Killing Edge was shoved into her hiding place, stopping inches away from her face.

“At least show me your face before I end you,” A voice said, “Coward.”

Hold on, she recognized that tone.

“F-Felix?” She responded, hoping she hadn’t guessed wrong.

The blade withdrew.

Cautiously, the archer got up, her bow still in hand.

Well, it definitely _looked_ to be Felix, though his outfit was a bit different from the academy clothes she was used to. To be fair, she’d also changed her wardrobe quite a bit since then, so the same could easily be said for her.

“Bernadetta?” He remarked, slightly surprised, “What are you doing?”

“Well, ummmm,” She responded, trying to find the right words, “...Hunting?”

His reaction was unperturbed as ever as he sheathed his sword, “Had I not decided to give you the chance to at least reveal yourself, I would’ve killed you.”

“And I’m grateful that you didn’t.” She admitted, “So… How’ve you been?”

Felix raised an eyebrow, “Why are you here?” He asked, ignoring her question.

“Well uh, why are you here?” Bernadetta responded, not thinking.

Felix squinted, “Avoiding Agarthan patrols,” He replied, “Now again. Why. Are. You. Here?”

“Oh, same.”

Felix seemed to accept that answer, judging by his silence for the next few moments.

“You have a Crest too, do you not?” He asked abruptly.

“Uh, yeah, Minor one of Indech,” She conjured up a flickering image of her crest, a trick Edelgard had taught her during their academy years.

“Hey, wait,” The Varley took up her bow, “You’re some kind of Agarthan imposter, aren’t you!?”

“No.” He responded firmly. The tone of the statement was enough for Bernadetta to lower her bow. It was definitely the real Felix.

“Ok. I’m just a little cautious. You know, after the whole Monica incident back at Garreg Mach,” She explained.

“Understandable. I’ve been a bit on edge since then as well,” He admitted, “My point is that both of us have Crests. We both face the same issue of the Agarthans.” 

“So,” He continued, “If we were to travel together, we could more easily avoid their watch.”

“Wait,” Bernadetta replied, trying to figure out if she was correct about what the swordsman was saying, “So you’re saying we should… partner up?”

Felix rolled his eyes, “Yes.”

“Why me?” She questioned. 

“Your skill in bows could easily compliment my swordfighting,” He stated plainly, “I struggle dealing with ranged or flying opponents, whereas you could take them with ease.”

Bernadetta blushed slightly, “O-ok. So I watch your back, you watch mine?”

“Precisely.”

The girl thought to herself. On one hand, she didn’t exactly want to partner up with someone. Honestly, she’d give anything to just be able to go back to Garreg Mach and just lock herself in her room for the rest of time. But that… wasn’t _currently_ an option. Not to mention, she wasn’t exactly having a good time all by herself. She was hungry, running out of arrows…

And she actually had to admit, for once, she was actually lonely.

“Alright,” She agreed, “So, where are we going?”

Felix had already began to walk away, forcing Bernadetta to quickly catch up with him.

“Hey, uh, did you not hear me or-”

“We’re going to Alliance territory,” He responded, “My current goal is to find Claude and whatever little group he’s managed to cobble together.”

“Oh hey… That was kinda what I was doing too…” She admitted quietly.

“Perhaps you can teach me that disarming technique you use,” He mused as they walked off.

“Uh, I’ll try.” She vaguely remembered him saying something about that back at the academy. Come to think of it, she never did figure out what exactly he wanted her to show him so bad back then. All she really remembered doing was panicking and running away.

Her stomach rumbled slightly.

“You wouldn’t happen to any food on you, would you?”

“Sadly, no.”

“Aw.”

Weeks later, the two of them ended up at Cenere Village. It was an important stop on their journey. Not only would they have a chance to resupply, but also see if there were any rumors or sightings of Claude’s group in the area. 

Bernadetta was busy buying more food supplies from one of the village merchants, while Felix kept watch for any enemy patrollers. To an uninformed viewer, it just seemed like a young lady and her personal bodyguard, especially with their hoods concealing their facial features.

Ironically, out of the two of them, it turned out she was more reliable one when it came to talking with merchants. Many of them tended to either drive up prices or outright refuse to sell things to Felix, due to his… usual demeanor.

Still, during all that time, they’d come up with a system of how things worked. Bernadetta did the nice talk, while Felix both handled any threats and jumped in when Bernie was getting too intimidated. They’d learned to look out for each other.

Bernadetta had just finished paying the merchant when Felix lightly elbowed her to subtly get her attention.

“I didn’t spend all the money on sweets this time I swear,” She defended, remembering a past incident where she’d learned that Felix actually had a bit of a sweet tooth. Still, didn’t exactly help the stomach aches they shared the night after. Apparently, eating nothing but cake for a few days wasn’t exactly good for your body.

“Not that,” He assured her, “Look.”

He gestured at a nearby merchant caravan.

“Anyone look familiar?”

Bernadetta looked carefully at the one of the caravan’s mounted guards. They looked fairly nondescript, but that orange hair and cloth did look a bit familiar…

“Is that… Leonie?”

She hadn’t seen her classmate in years. Not since they’d been forced to flee Garreg Mach. Still, it definitely looked to be her.

“One of Claude’s associates,” Felix observed, “I think we may have found him.”

“You sure?” She asked cautiously, “I mean, Leonie always went on and on about wanting to be a mercenary when she graduated. She could just be doing a job.”

“Look at the one next to her.”

She squinted to get a better look. Another of the caravan’s guards also looked familiar. The green hair, the glasses. His outfit was similarly basic but his identity was certain.

Ignatz.

“Ok, so Leonie and Ignatz are here, that doesn’t mean-”

As if on cue, a pink-haired woman peeked out of the side of one of the caravans. Her hair wasn’t in its usual pigtails, but her face still stood out. Hilda was with them too.

“It’s definitely them,” Felix stated.

He began to stride towards the group, only for his purple-haired companion to tug on his arm, stopping him.

“They probably don’t want too much attention,” She explained, “And neither do we.”

“So what do you suppose we do?” He protested quietly as the caravan kept moving forward, “Our opportunity is slipping through our grasp.”

“We could follow them,” She suggested, “Try and approach them when they’re out of town. That way neither of us has to worry about any Agarthan interference.”

Felix remained silent for a moment.

“Alright.”

“...And that’s how we ended up here,” She finished.

“I don’t know, sounds kinda _romantic_ to me,” Hilda teased.

Before Bernadetta could get anything more than a few stutters out in protest, Leonie gave a small tap to Hilda’s arm.

“Knock it off.”

“Well anyways,” Raphael announced, “It’s dinner time, and I can’t think of a better way to welcome you two then a good meal!”

“That sounds great,” Bernadetta admitted.

And with that, the Golden Deer and the two new arrivals set off, intent on celebrating both their reunion and their recent victory.

Later that night, Byleth and Claude were busy strategizing as usual. This time, planning their route through Kingdom Territory. A task which was interrupted when Felix entered the tent.

“Just the person I was looking for,” Claude admitted, “So, where and how does Dimitri want us to meet up? Me and Teach have been looking over all the route through Kingdom territory and-”

“The Boar isn’t interested in your help,” Felix interrupted.

The two Golden Deer strategists were confused.

“I thought you were here to get aid for Dimitri?” Byleth questioned.

“I never said _he_ was the one who wanted it,” Felix replied, “The Boar doesn’t care for anything other then his rage now.”

Byleth sat there in confusion, while Claude expression went downtrodden. The Professor realized his friend knew something he didn’t.

“What happened?” He asked.

“Dimitri never did seem to recover from the whole ‘Edelgard is the Flame Emperor’ revelation,” Claude admitted, “Even when we were being forced to leave the Monastery, all he seemed to be interested in was Edelgard’s head on a pike. I was hoping that after all these years he could’ve gotten better but…I guess not.”

“He’s only gotten worse,” Felix confirmed, “Now, all he cares for is killing and brutality.”

“The Boar is little more than an animal at this point,” He continued, “It is my hope that you two could at least direct that animal towards the right targets.”

Felix went silent for a moment.

“And perhaps…” He trailed off.

“We'll help him,” Byleth finished, “We can try, at least.”


	11. Seeking the Pride

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> While Byleth attempts to figure out a solution to a long-term issue facing the Resistance, the group seeks out the Blue Lions.

Ailell

“The Boar has made his den here,” Felix pointed towards a spot on the mountains on Claude’s map. It was slightly East of Magdred Way, the same area where the Golden Deer had fought Lord Lonato and his guard all those years ago.

“Sweet,” Claude commented, “That’s only around a week or two away.”

“Do you know the whereabouts of the rest of the Blue Lions?” Byleth asked hopefully.

“All but I were still following the Boar before my departure,” Felix informed him, “Though I doubt that to still be true now.”

“Annette, Mercedes, Dedue, Sylvain, Ingrid, Ashe… all of them?” Claude remarked.

“Yes,” Felix clarified, annoyed.

“Any other troops? We could always use more reinforcements.”

“Unfortunately, no. Not anymore,” Felix replied.

“What do you mean ‘not anymore’?” Claude responded worriedly.

Felix scoffed, “The Boar’s ‘tactics’ threw away the lives of what few troops remained loyal after his exile,” He recalled, “What was left of those fled.”

Byleth averted his gaze. 

“Alright,” Claude declared, “Felix, thank you. We got something to work with now. By morning, we should have a proper plan put together. ”

Felix gave a small nod and left the tent.

“I’m gonna be honest my friend, I’m starting to have second doubts about Dimitri now,” Claude admitted, once they were sure that Felix was gone.

He looked at the map, staring at the location Felix had marked down.

“Killing indiscriminately… Throwing away his own troops…”

He sighed, “He’s like a completely different person.”

Byleth remained silent for a moment before responding, “We have to try. Even if it doesn’t work, we can’t just leave the Blue Lions like that.”

Claude chuckled, “You really don’t want to leave anyone behind, do you?”

Byleth shook his head, “No. No one.”

“Well, we are stronger together,” Claude noted, “Alright, let’s get to work.”

The next day, the Golden Deer’s caravan left Ailell. 

It took quite a bit of reshuffling along their carts to fit both the new wyvern riders from Judith along with Bernadetta and Felix. In fact, it rapidly became clear that they simply didn’t have enough room. The wyverns were traveling alongside the group on foot for now, but eventually that would appear way too suspicious. 

And that was the reason why Ignatz, Leonie, and Raphael were busy at a small trading outpost trying to acquire more transports, while the rest of their classmates were left to hang around the now-parked caravan.

Most of the Deer were taking the opportunity to rest, some of them just outright napping in the safety of the carts while Felix, along with a small group of their troops, kept watch.

Byleth, however, was wide awake. He was busy writing down notes to bring up during the next strategy discussion. In a way, it reminded him of his day to day paperwork he had back at the academy. Only this time, he wasn’t grading papers or coming up with lesson plans. Instead, he was trying to figure out a long-term plan for the group.

The need for more carts brought up an issue. Namely, that if they did manage to convince the rest of the Lions to join their cause, they simply wouldn’t have enough room to keep going as they were now. The caravan was already suspiciously large as it was, which was why only a small party was sent to expand it. 

What they really needed was a base of operations, but even that was… difficult. Any base they could acquire would be an immediate target for their enemies’ Javelins of Light. No matter where they were. The Agarthans certainly didn’t care for civilian casualties, nor would they even have to send troops in. One Javelin, and it would be the Holy Tomb all over again.

Perhaps-

“Hey…Professor?” Byleth’s line of thought was interrupted by Bernadetta’s voice. 

“Yes?” He responded, “What is it?”

She meekly made her way into cart.

“I just wanted to say…” She paused, “...Thank you.”

She twiddled her thumbs together, “If it weren’t for you, I… don’t think I’d be here right now.”

Byleth gave a small but comforting smile.

“What happened?” He asked politely.

“Well, after… you know…” She continued, looking down as the memories of that night at the Holy Tomb briefly resurfaced, “I ended up back home.”

Byleth’s expression softened. A return “Home” for her meant a return to Count Varley.

“I managed to hide out for a while,” She admitted, “But eventually, my father found me.”

The Professor nodded sympathetically.

“Well, when he tried to force me to go with him,” She continued, her expression brightening, “I remembered everything I learned at the Monastery. You, Dorothea, Petra, E-” She stopped herself for a split-second, “Caspar! I meant Caspar.” 

“Anyways, I realized I had all these... _friends_ that cared for me. That loved me. And I… I didn’t have to do what he said.”

“So I told him I wasn’t going to listen to him anymore!” The purple-haired sniper exclaimed, calming down immediately afterwards, “And I… may have hit him with my bow a little…” She admitted sheepishly.

“Later, Hu- I mean, I found out that he wanted to hand me over to the Agarthans,” She finished, “Apparently they promised a bunch of high-ranking nobles in the Empire higher positions if they gave them Crest-bearers.”

Byleth smiled, “Well, you managed to escape that, and him. I’m proud of you.”

He noticed his student’s happiness at the response, “So, does all this mean you’re finally open to going to new places by yourself?”

An embarrassed blush went across her face for a moment, “Oh, definitely not! If it wasn’t for Felix showing up when he did, I don’t think I could’ve lasted another week!” She put on a slight grin, “After that, he kinda dulled my panic sense a little bit.”

She sighed, “Anyways, my point is… people can change. I mean, I did, so… maybe, just keep that in mind... In the future…” She finished hesitantly.

“I’ll just get going now,” She remarked, taking her leave, “Sorry for interrupting… whatever it was you were doing. Just wanted to say thanks.”

“I’m just happy that you’re alright,” Byleth replied before she could exit the cart, “If you ever need to talk or anything, I’ll be here.”

She smiled.

“Thanks Professor.”

As Bernadetta left through the parted fabric of the cart, Byleth chuckled.

As usual, Bernie wasn’t the greatest at subtlety.

She clearly knew something about her class that he didn’t.

The Crestless trio of Deer eventually returned, but with only a pair of new carts. They simply couldn’t buy more. The rest of the group could only hope that the Blue Lions had either a stable enough base to support them for the time being, or that they could acquire more transport on the way.

Sadly, it wasn’t in the cards for the journey to get any easier. The now crowded caravan found itself in the mountains of the Kingdom within a week, with all the snow and ice that came with it. They ended up having to stop at more than one fur trading post to get enough insulation to stop both their troops and their animals from freezing to death. 

“First we’re melting, now we’re freezing!” Hilda complained, trying to bury herself in the fur-lined hooded coat she’d bought for herself, “Can’t we just go somewhere_ normal_ for once?”

The Golden Deer, with the new additions of Bernadetta and Felix, were busy making their way up the mountain where Dimitri’s camp was located. They had to leave the main caravan, along with most of their troops and all of the carts, behind. While their mounts were equipped to deal with the cold that built up the higher they ascended, the main workhorses that pulled their group couldn’t. Not to mention the constant issue of snow, which was similarly getting more and more thick the higher they went.

Felix, the only one who was originally adequately dressed for the occasion, was unamused.

“Perhaps if you’re usual outfit was better equipped for the cold,” He offhandedly remarked, “You wouldn’t be so bothered.”

“Well not all of us grew up in the arctic!” She protested, “Some of us actually lived in places that didn’t go below zero in the middle of summer!”

Felix rolled his eyes.

“Trust me, he doesn’t care,” Bernadetta advised her, slightly muffled by her own hood.

Byleth himself wasn’t exactly a stranger to these conditions. Throughout his years of travel with Jeralt, he’d been to out of the way villages in areas just like this. But, though his signature hood was up and doing its job protecting him from the brunt of it, he had to admit Hilda had a point. It was _freezing_ up here.

Suddenly, Claude, who was on the back of his wyvern leading them, stopped. He signaled for the rest to do the same.

“Hold up,” He said as the group came to a halt, “Does anyone else smell… burning?”

Byleth took a small sniff of the air. It was faint, but he could definitely make out the distinct scent of wood and metal being consumed by flame.

That was a bad sign, but what was worse is what Ignatz pointed out next.

“Guys, there’s smoke up ahead!” 

Byleth squinted. Sure enough, between the light snowfall and mist, he could see a black pitch of smog coming from up ahead, with small bits of burning embers confirming his suspicions.

“That’s the camp…” Felix observed, a note of concern in his voice, “We must hurry!”

He took off past Claude, drawing his sword.

“Dammit…” Claude cursed, “Well, you heard him! We need to get up there!”

Byleth drew his sword, an action echoed by the rest of the group with their own weapons.

They didn’t come this far just to lose the Blue Lions now.


	12. Verdant Rescue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Golden Deer arrive to find the Blue Lions under attack, forcing them to get into a bloody brawl with Agarthan forces.

Blue Lion’s Hideout

Sylvain removed the Lance of Ruin from the enemy mage’s lifeless body. He was on his own, having been knocked off his horse, which had fled from the battle. His axe was similarly missing, lost somewhere in the snow. His armor was riddled with several new cuts and dents, some of the latter managing to get through to his skin underneath. All he had left was the Lance. Even his adjutant in this battle, Ashe, was out of his sight. Lost in the fog of war.

Hopefully he was busy fighting like he was, and not… the other option.

“Well come on then,” He boasted, holding the wicked relic forward towards the next round of foes, a pair of Agarthan warriors, “I can do this all day.”

He was pretty sure that was a lie. To be honest, lasting more than a few more minutes was starting to look increasingly unlikely.

The two warriors exchanged a nod. One of them took out a tomahawk, while the other rushed Sylvain with his silver axe. 

Sylvain barely manage to deflect the thrown tomahawk with his lance before blocking the charging warrior’s axe with the weapon. They struggled for a moment, but Sylvain broke out by sidestepping, doding another throw of the tomahawk in the process.

His melee foe rushed to keep up with him. He let loose a series of wild swings from his axe, each one blocked by the shaft of the Gautier family relic. However, Sylvain noticed that his foe was getting tired. Sloppy. He took advantage of the last, frantic, attack, catching it on the ornaments on the end of the Lance.

So, they _did_ do something other than look menacing.

Sylvain ended the small struggle between the two of them by driving his lance forward, the blade piercing into his enemies throat, spilling crimson onto the snow. 

Despite the lethal injury, the Agarthan refused to die, feebly trying to raise his axe to hit Sylvain one last time. The Gautier responded by kicking his foe off the Lance and into the snow to expire.

He took a moment to catch his breath. All the wounds were taking it much harder to keep going, but he had to. 

The reprieve was interrupted by the other warrior, the one supporting his ally from a distance, suddenly slamming a hammer into his chest.

Of course, Sylvain thought to himself, I’m going to die because I forgot how many people I was fighting. Literal beginners mistake.  
He was knocked a small distance into a snowbank. He tried feebly to get up, to no avail. So, this was it. He’d figured he’d get killed because of some mistake on his part. He just figured it would’ve been flirting with the wrong noble’s daughter, not forgetting how many foes he was fighting on a cold mountain.

“Beast,” His foe said spitefully as he raised his hammer up to crush the red-head. 

Sylvain closed his eyes and braced himself for the end.

However, the final blow didn’t come. Sylvain heard a grunt of pain, followed by light gurgling. A deathrattle. 

Sylvain opened his eyes as his enemy’s hammer dropped to the ground. He saw the Agarthan’s body was still standing, lifeless and impaled through the chest by a Killing Edge. 

Felix threw the corpse aside.

“Huh, you came back,” Sylvain remarked, coughing up a little bit of blood, “And here I thought I might’ve outlived you.”

“I didn’t come alone,” Felix replied, with… the closest thing to a smile that he could make.

Sure enough, as Sylvain took a glance behind his rescuer, he saw both a handful of freshly slain enemies, and the familiar faces of none other than the Golden Deer.

“Where’s the Boar?” Felix questioned as Sylvain was being tended to by Marianne. 

“Ow,” Sylvain said weakly as her healing magic mended some of his wounds, “Careful, I think I have a broken rib or two.”

“This isn’t the time for jokes,” Felix responded disdainfully.

“He’s up ahead,” The red-head responded, “He and the others are still at the ruins. It was just me and Ashe back here.”

Felix nodded, “Thank you,” He replied, a rare statement coming from him.

It was only then that Sylvain seemed to recognize one of the figures advancing forward with the Golden Deer.

“No way… Is that-” He began as Byleth turned towards him, giving him a small nod.

“Yes yes, we’ll explain everything later,” Felix answered, heading off to join them.

“You better,” Sylvain remarked, to Marianne’s slight confusion, “Because right now I’m not entirely sure if I’m dead or not.”

Felix joined the rest of the group in moving forward. There were quite a decent amount of Agarthan and hired mercenary corpses scattered around the area, presumably Sylvain and Ashe’s handiwork. A few of them could barely make out the shape of an old temple though the snowfall ahead.

Suddenly, an arrow came flying from behind a seemingly inconspicuous rock. Claude jumped off his wyvern to dodge it, in the same motion taking out Failnaught and aiming an already nocked arrow at the source. 

“Ashe, that you?” The Alliance Leader asked, ready, along with the rest of the group’s ranged attackers, to end the assassin should it not be the case. 

To Claude’s relief, the grey-haired archer came out from behind his hiding place. He looked confused and slightly embarrassed, though his bow was still drawn.

“Claude?” He asked, “What are you doing here?”

“Performing the big heroic rescue just in the nick of time, of course,” Claude responded plainly as Ashe came forward to join them.

“But how did you-” He began to question, before noticing Felix and going quiet.

Felix gave a small nod of acknowledgement.

“I knew you’d come back,” He admitted to his fellow Blue Lion, “Thanks for proving me right.”

Ashe turned to face Claude, “Have you seen Sylvain? We got seperated.”

“He’s a little banged up,” Claude admitted, “But we managed to get him some healing just in time.”

Ashe sighed, “That’s a relief.” He gestured ahead of them, “Everyone else is still inside.”

And with that Ashe rushed ahead to help his classmates, followed by the rest of the Golden Deer. Right near the entrance, Felix noticed that what he thought was a large rock covered in snow was actually the motionless form of a deactivated Titanus.

The inside of the temple was illuminated by a few cracks allowing sunlight in, along with some freshly extinguished torches on the walls. Contrasting the dead torches were a multitude of small fires, most of their kindling seeming to be old wooden furniture that must’ve been set aflame during the fighting. The source of the smog they’d seen outside. There were a few bodies littering the area, the snow and stone around them stained red. The group could hear the sound of combat from the next room.

Felix wasted no time rushing in. He quickly scanned the area. Annette was closest, protecting an injured Mercedes from a group of Agarthan myrmidons. She was backed against one of the walls, Mercedes not even slumped against it but using her magic to help her friend. Ingrid was dodging the attacks of a Titanus that was attempting to use its Katar to cut down her and her pegasus, occasionally landing a few light hits with her lance. Dedue was occupied with another, using his shield and armor to block the golem’s oversized blade. He couldn’t spot any sign of Dimitri.

The Fraldarius heir took his sword to one of the enemies facing Annette. The Agarthan swordsman turned and blocked the strike with his own weapon, but it only took Felix one more attack to break his guard before finishing him with a slash across the chest. He took out the next by simply skewering him through the back with his sword, the foe too distracted by the pair of mages in front of them.

Annette dispatched a third with a cast of Wind magic, sending a nearby barrel to smash into pieces on his head. She noticed Felix’s presence after he took out yet another foe right in front of her. 

“Felix!” She exclaimed as Mercedes covered her with a cast of Bolganone, sending a fiery burst onto another group of enemies.

Felix didn’t have time to speak, ending another Agarthan with a cut across the neck. 

The remainder of the Agarthans threatening the duo were cut down by a hail of arrows and spells, coursey of Claude, Ignatz, and Lysithea. Bernadetta took down one last assassin before he could manage to attempt a sneak attack on Felix, earning a nod from her companion that she returned happily.

Annette slumped against the wall alongside her friend, breathless. Felix noticed that Mercedes had a large, bloody slash wound across her side, likely from one of the swordsmen he’d just cut down. 

“Mercie I’m so sorry...” Annette apologized between breaths, “This is all my fault.”

“It’s… fine… Annette,” Mercedes responded weakly, clutching her wound.

Annette shook her head, “No! You got hurt protecting me…” 

She tried to focus on a healing spell, but only for it to fizzle out in her hand.

However, the distinct light of another healing spell shined on Mercedes, closing the wound. The two of them looked up to find Lysithea holding out her hand.

“Don’t worry, I’ve got you.”

Felix left the mages to focus on the pair of Titanus.

Cutting down one of the few remaining troops in the area, he looked towards Claude and the Professor. 

“You take right, I take left?” Claude suggested to his teacher, referring to the Titanus facing Dedue and Ingrid respectively.

Byleth nodded.

The two ran, or rode off in Claude’s case, to their respective targets. Felix joined Claude en route.

The two of them, along with Raphael, began their assault on the Titanus threatening Ingrid. It was distracted by its initial opponent’s aerial assault and maneuvering, allowing Felix and Raphael to land several blows on its lower half. When it did notice them, Claude took the momentary distraction to order his wyvern to jump onto the machine’s body, biting and clawing at the armor. Claude himself leapt off his mount when it did so, managing to shoot a single glowing arrow straight into its helmet.

Claude landed with a roll behind the Titanus, unloading several more arrows into the giant’s back shortly afterwards. Before the Titanus could attempt to harm his mount, Claude whistled, causing the wyvern to leap off.

It was just the diversion Ingrid needed.

Charging forward on her pegasus, Igrid impaled her lance straight into the helmet of the Titanus, using her forward momentum to bring the giant crashing into the ground. The giant’s fall seemed to shake the whole temple. Soon, the lights all over the Titanus faded, showing that their combined assault had ended it. 

Landing, Ingrid took a big sigh of relief as she turned towards Felix.

“Felix,” She noted gratefully, “Thanks for bringing help.”

Felix gave her a nod, turning his attention towards Byleth and Dedue’s fight.

Dedue barely managed to block another strike with his greatshield, whilst Byleth was making attacks on the golem’s back. Suddenly, the Titanus’ summoned a slash of energy from its katar, breaking Dedue’s guard. It followed up the attack with another slash, knocking Dedue to the ground, his heavy armor hitting the stone with a clang.

The Titanus raised its blade to finish the retainer, only to be stopped when the whip form of the Sword of the Creator wrapped around its neck. One of the blades of the whip caught itself on the machine’s armor, allowing Byleth to jump onto its back when he reverted the weapon back to sword form, using his sword as a makeshift climbing rope.

As the armor flailed back and forth, trying to shake Byleth off of it, the Professor used a fire spell on the back of its helmet, heating causing a small explosion that heated the metal. Taking advantage of the weak point, Byleth impaled his Relic though through the armor, twisting it around the insides of the golem for good measure. 

After a brief moment, the Titanus deactivated in the same way the other one had, the lights fading as the machine went slack. Byleth jumped off right before it collapsed, dusting off his coat as he landed.

Even Felix had to admit that was impressive.

Byleth approached the downed Dedue, who was trying, and failing, to get himself back up. There was a large crack in his armor, with blood slowly oozing out of it.

The Professor cast a healing spell, stopping the bleeding, though even then Dedue was struggling.

“Where’s Dimitri?” He questioned, slightly gently.

After another failed attempt to get up, followed by a short yell of pain, Dedue answered by pointing to a nearby doorway.

“Down that way…” He admitted begrudgingly, clearly wanting to assist his liege, but unable to due to his wounds.

Byleth nodded, giving another heal to the knight, before going to relay the information to Claude.

Felix, meanwhile, didn’t wait for commands and took off down in the direction Dedue had pointed.

It came as no surprise that the hallway was littered with bodies and blood splattered across the walls. 

The Boar Prince hadn’t changed.

Unfortunately.

Felix spotted Dimiri in the room ahead, fighting a small force of Agarthans. Including an Armored Knight who he guessed was their commander.

Dimitri let out a bestial yell as a sweep of his Areadbhar laid one of the enemy assassins flat on the ground. Using the spear to hold back the gauntlets of one of the enemy fighters, he stomped his foot directly onto the fallen foe’s neck, ending his life with a loud cracking noise. The one-eyed Prince then headbutted the pale berserker he had locked weapons with, quickly following it by savagely impaling him with his relic before bloodily ripping it out. 

“Monster…” The Agarthan commander noted bitterly as he rushed to meet Dimitri, blocking a strike with his massive shield, “You shall pay for every drop of blood you’ve spilt!”

Felix noticed a mage attempting to aim a spell at the Boar, ending his interference before it could begin by impaling the masked Agarthan through the back. 

Dimitri kicked the commander’s shield back, in one motion using the curved end of his weapon to decapitate a duo of archers who were about to fire at him. Another shot an arrow into his shoulder, which Dimitri ignored as he retaliated by throwing his relic through their chest. Dodging a swing from the commander’s sword, he pounced on the corpse like a wild animal, retrieving his weapon before turning his attention back to the commander.

“You have no place to lecture!” Dimitri retorted, wildly smashing the blade of Areadbhar onto the commander’s shield, to no avail. The commander was able to keep pace to blow every blow.

“Do you even _recognize_ how many you’ve slaughtered!?” The commander accused as he continued to block Dimitri’s increasingly frenzied strikes. 

“That is meaningless coming from your kind!” Dimitri growled, “We’re all murderers here!”

He impaled his spear into the greatshield, trying to pierce through to stab his foe.

“Everything I’ve done, I’ve done for my clansmen, for my people!” The commander retorted as Dimitri began to drive his weapon in deeper, “What are _you_ fighting for?”

Dimitri didn’t bother with a proper response, only driving doubling his efforts to skewer through the shield with a roar.

Felix was off to the side, finishing off the last archer in the commander’s squad with a quick slice. He couldn’t get close to the fight to assist, lest the Boar try to take his head as well.

“You’ve done nothing but kill mindlessly!” The commander yelled, a statement Felix found himself agreeing with, “Now, I shall put you out of this sorry state.”

As Dimitri drove his spear even deeper, the shield was suddenly covered in an aura of electricity. It coursed through Dimitri’s relic, going across his body as he began to scream in pain. He loosened his grip on his spear as he reflexively began to pull it out of the crack it had made in the shield.

The commander seized the opportunity, bashing Dimitri across his right half with the still electrified shield. As the Boar spat out blood, the commander wasted no time driving his sword straight into his side. 

Removing the now crimson-soaked blade, the commander raised it over his head, intent on bringing it down on Dimitri’s skull.

A process Felix interrupted by stabbing his own sword into the armored knight’s back.

However, despite the injury, the commander, in a surprising display of speed, quickly smashed the shield into Felix. The mighty blow sent him flying backwards, directly into a wall. His Killing Edge flew out of his hands, hitting the ground with a clink. 

Before he could follow his attacks on either Blue Lion through, Felix saw the commander was forced to use his shield to block a trio of red arrows, along with a fireball.

Looks like Byleth and Claude were just waiting for an opening too.

“Don’t get close,” Byleth remarked to Claude as he shot off another fire spell, which the knight was once again forced to block, “Keep him hunkered down.”

Claude nodded, shooting another volley of arrows, all of which were caught by the commander’s shield. The two continued the ranged offense, with Byleth avoiding the use of the whip form of his weapon, presumably to avoid being shocked like Dimitri had.

Felix redirected his gaze towards Dimitri, who was slowly starting to get up despite the bloody wound he was just dealt.

The commander began to slowly make his way forward through the storm of arrows and fire magic, using his shield to weather the assault.

He didn’t see Dimitri get up, using his relic to keep himself standing.

Before the commander could react, Dimitri pounced on him from behind. He held Areadbhar in both hands a reverse grip, skewering the commander through the back with the weapon.

The commander dropped the the ground as Dimitri continued his assault, removing his weapon only to brutally stab his opponent over and over again, yelling like the beast Felix knew he had become.

Eventually, he threw his spear aside, resigning himself to slamming the knight’s head against the floor with his bare hands.

Byleth and Claude were horrified at the brutality. It never seemed to occur to them how far the Prince had fallen.

Felix, meanwhile, was unsurprised. This was the Dimitri he knew. The Dimitri he’d left in disgust.

As blood pooled underneath the commander’s lifeless body, Dimitri got up, disheveled. He picked up his spear, using it to support himself due to his injuries.

“Leave now, traitor, or you’ll be next,” He warned Felix as Byleth helped the Fraldarius up, to the teacher’s shock.

“Dimitri-” Byleth attempted to say as Dimitri wordlessly brushed passed him.

Byleth attempted to continue, but Claude signaled him to stop.

“Claude, leave.” He remarked to the Golden Deer leader plainly as he continued to limp down the hallway. Felix noticed his steps were getting less coordinated as he walked.

“Three, two, one…” Claude counted.

When the count hit zero, Dimitri collapsed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry if things got a little too brutal. As you can see, time hasn't been nearly as kind to the Lions as it has to the Deer.


	13. Audience With A Ghost

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Claude and Byleth try to figure out what's happened to Dimitri in the last five years.

Resistance Camp

In the aftermath of the attack, the Blue Lions had no choice but to leave their base of operations behind. The Agarthans seemed to have made a point to burn what supplies they had, never mind that the attack itself almost certainly meant their location had been compromised.

They Golden Deer’s caravan had since made their way into a cave, in the hopes that it was just out of the way enough to avoid any enemy patrols they may be sent to check on the whereabouts of the forces they’d just routed. This time, they’d set up a proper camp, hoping to use the opportunity to get some well deserved rest while they plotted their next move.

This left Byleth and Claude a good opportunity to meet and discuss with half of the Blue Lions. Unfortunately, the other half of the house was unable to join them. Though they’d received enough to last through the fighting, healing magic alone wasn’t enough to completely mend all wounds. They had to take time to rest and recover naturally. While Mercedes, Sylvain, and Dedue were simply bedridden, Dimitri was another issue entirely. The healers found that his unconscious body was riddled with untreated wounds, including several arrowheads that had simply been left in his flesh.

His mental state proved to be another issue. They found themselves having to go with Felix’s suggestion to keep the Prince drugged with some strong herbal medicine, partially for healing purposes, but also to make sure he wouldn’t worsen his own condition.

And that left Claude and Byleth alone with Ashe, Annette, and Ingrid.

“I still can’t believe you’re here Professor,” Ashe admitted, sitting down on a nearby crate, “I mean, people coming back from the dead when they’re needed the most? It's like a novel.”

Byleth sighed. A lot of his interactions with the Blue Lions were usually on the subject of where he’d been for the last few years. An answer he still didn’t exactly know himself. Still, it was nice to see them again.

“Let’s get to the matter at hand,” Ingrid clarified, “Why’d you call us here?”

“Oh, I just mostly want to catch up,” Claude mused, “Mostly on the subject of our dear old Prince.”

The Lions’ expressions darkened.

“Look, I know I’m probably reopening a few old wounds, but if we’re going to work together, we need to get everything out of the way now,” Claude admitted, “Besides, Felix wasn’t exactly clear on what happened.”

“Sounds about right...” Annette remarked, twirling around a lock of hair in her fingers. Byleth noticed that she’d undone the pigtails she had during her academy years, letting her hair down in contrast to Mercedes and Ingrid, who’d both cut their hair shorter in that time.

“Dimitri called Felix ‘Traitor’ when we went to help him,” Byleth recalled, “Let’s start with that.”

Ingrid sighed to herself, “It was after the remainder of our troops left us, around 8 or 9 months ago,” She remembered sadly.

“The two of them got into a major disagreement over the whole affair,” Ashe continued for her, “It was mostly kept between them, but it ended with Felix threatening to leave. Dimitri told him that if he did, he’d be an enemy from that point onwards.”

“And that’s what he did,” Ingrid confirmed, “He left without saying another word. Afterwards, his highness declared that if Felix ever returned, we were to treat him as if he was just that, an enemy.”

“But you didn’t when we showed up, ” Claude noted, “So then, what happened to him after Rufus’ assassination?”

“If you think for a second that he was responsible-” Ingrid began to protest.

“I know he was framed,” Claude responded, “It’s pretty obvious. I mean after Dimitri was set to be executed. ”

Ingrid calmed down and averted her gaze, “Something in him just seemed to have… _break_ after Felix and Dedue helped him escape.”

Byleth was a bit surprised. For all of Felix’s criticisms, he was still Dimitri’s close friend. So it must’ve hurt him even more to see what the Prince had become after the fact.

“He’s been like… that, ever since we all reunited...” Annette admitted.

Annette trailed off, still rolling one of her locks in her hand nervously.

“I heard him talking to himself one night,” She confessed, conflicted, “He was promising his mother and father that he’d avenge them, how he’d take Edelgard’s head and destroy anyone who’d try to stop him…”

Both Claude and Byleth noticed the downtrodden look on Annette’s face was mirrored by Ashe and Ingrid.

“Have either of you had the same experience?” Byleth asked after a long pause.

“Yeah…” Ashe replied resignedly, “More than once.”

“Dimitri’s always been haunted by the ghosts of his past,” Ingrid remarked, “But now, to him, they’re the only things he has left.”

Byleth always knew Dimitri bared his scars from the Tragedy of Duscur, and likely would for the rest of his life. He knew from some second-hand accounts that Dimiri no longer had any sense of taste, and Manuela, when she was sober, had told him about a time where he seemed to have snapped during a medical check-up, telling her to leave his wounds alone and move on to the next student. He’d been aware of the shadow that seemed to follow the Prince, but the confirmation that it seemed to have consumed him was… troubling.

Claude seemed to take note of the rapidly descending mood, from both the Blue Lions, and Byleth himself.

“Ok, that’s enough,” He finally got out, turning to the trio, “Thank you for your time. Go get some rest, stars know you’ve earned it.”

The Blue Lions began to head off.

“And guys, don’t worry,” Claude remarked before they left, “Things are going to change, I promise.”

“I hope so.” Ashe replied.

“You know,” Claude remarked to Byleth, the two of them waiting outside the area the few medically trained troops had designated for first aid, “If you’d told me 6 years ago that out of all the house leaders that I would’ve ended up being the most responsible one, I would've said you were out of your mind.”

Byleth rolled his eyes.

They were waiting for the “Ok” that the Blaiddyd had woken up. Because the only person who truly knew how to start helping Dimitri was Dimitri.

“He’s… awake,” The mage who’d been placed in charge of magically waking the prince reported, his head poking through the tent Dimitri had been placed in.

Claude thanked the man as he and Byleth walked in.

Dimitri looked… ragged. His armor was, for the most part taken off in order to allow proper treatment of his many, many injuries. What they’d found under the black plate was countless scars, many overlapping each other. He was leaning upwards in a small bed they’d had in their supplies, itself held up by a makeshift frame.

“What do you want Claude?” He spat out bitterly as the duo approached him. 

“To help, of course.” Claude replied sincerely.

“You’re far too late for that.”

Byleth stepped forward, “You might think so, but we don’t.”

Dimitri seemed to ignore the teacher, putting all his focus on Claude.

“This isn’t healthy,” Claude remarked, “None of this is. You shouldn't even be able to _walk_ with your level of injuries. You had arrowheads embedded in your back that looked to have been there for _weeks_-”

“Why do you care?” He interrupted.

“Because someone has to.”

He scoffed.

“Your care is better spent on the living,” Dimitri remarked, “Leave me to my ghosts.”

Byleth was staring at Dimitri, who continued to ignore him in favor of glaring at a worried Claude, when the realization hit. Dimitri was never informed that Byleth was still alive. For all the Prince knew, he was just another of his ghosts. The same ghosts his classmates heard him talking to night after night. 

“Dimitri,” He said, holding out his hand, “We're trying to help you.”

The Prince turned his gaze towards the Professor wearily.

“So you are,” He remarked, “Tell me, Professor, did you not feel the same way I do when your father was murdered? The urge for vengeance, overwhelming all else, all reason…”

Byleth averted his gaze. He hated to admit it, but Dimitri might be right. He wasn’t entirely sure what he would’ve become in the long term if Kronya had escaped.

“Perhaps…” He admitted, “But in that case, I, of all people, know what this path you’re on leads…”

“After Kronya and Solon died, I didn’t feel relieved or released,” He admitted, “I made mistakes I could never undo,” He thought back to Sothis sacrificing her own being to bring him back from that dark realm. Even now, he had to admit he missed the voice in his head. “It only felt… empty.”

“This path goes nowhere, Dimitri. Please, leave it while you have the chance.”

Dimitri’s expression softened for a moment, “Perhaps…”

His expression suddenly soured. He pushed Byleth's outstretched hand away, “Perhaps I was wrong. You _don’t_ understand.”

He looked down at his shaking palm, “Don’t you get it? These hands are eternally stained. Stained with the blood of men, women, _children_... ”

“The Dimitri I knew-”

“The Dimitri you knew is dead!” He yelled, rising slightly, “All that remains is the repulsive monster you see before you!”

Byleth backed off, dismayed at Dimitri’s rejection of his advice.

“Fine,” Claude interjected, “So you are this destructive monster you keep saying you are. That doesn’t change the fact that you have no choice but to join up with us.”

“Oh?” Dimitri replied, scowling at Claude.

“Your supplies were burned in the attack,” Claude recounted listing off factors with his hand, “You yourself are heavily wounded, and your position is compromised to the enemy. If you don’t come with us, I doubt you’d last even a few days.”

Dimitri nearly began to protest, but Claude interrupted him before he could start.

“And I think the rest of the Blue Lions wouldn’t even last that long.”

The Prince laid back down, letting out a deep breath, “Fine.”

Claude sighed, “Well that's settled then. We’ll just be leaving you to recover.”

Claude gestured for him and Byleth to leave.

“We can’t have him going out with our troops,” Byleth remarked when they were out of Dimitri’s earshot, “He’s a danger to them and himself.”

“I know that,” Claude replied, “But if he’s with us, that means we have more opportunities to find something that’ll help him.”

“I'm sure the old Dimitri is still in there, somewhere.”


	14. Team Building Exercises

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Byleth and Claude come up with a plan to bridge the gap between the Blue Lions and the Golden Deer.

Resistance Camp

Over the next few days, Byleth and Claude noticed a worrying trend.

After the majority of the Blue Lions, with the exception of Dimitri, had recovered from their injuries, they quickly found themselves struggling to fit in with the dynamic in the camp. While they gradually managed to find roles to fill, the two leaders of the resistance (Which couldn’t exactly just be called the Golden Deer anymore) found that the Kingdom-born class were mainly working with each other, while the Alliance natives likewise stayed with their classmates. 

They couldn’t exactly blame them. Afterall, they’d been working with their classmates for years at this point.

But a house divided cannot stand. And now that the two houses had effectively become one, they needed to learn to work together.

And that's what led to Claude gathering all the former Garreg Mach students for a meeting. It was a bit crowded, with the amount of participants effectively doubled. Perhaps they needed a bigger table…

Claude set that thought aside as his classmates piled in. The Deer gathered around the right side of the table, while the Lions took the left. A perfect demonstration of the issue he looked to solve. Bernadetta, the sole Black Eagle present, huddled near Felix at the edge of both groups.

“Welcome everyone,” He announced to the former students, “For the uninitiated, this is usually where we meet to discuss battle plans, future camp movements, and who gets what chores.”

“Today’s subject is some team-bonding activities.”

Confusion rippled throughout the assembled groups.

“I’m taking a page out of Teach’s old book for this,” He continued, “Literally.”

“I know none of you are exactly strangers to each other,” He explained, pacing behind the table, “But it's been a few years. This’ll be a good opportunity to not only get to catch up, but also build some new connections. Something that’ll be pretty important now that we’ll be working together on a long term basis.”

“Just think of it as a good old group activity,” Claude remarked as he got out the list he’d made the night before.

“Ashe and Ignatz, you two’ll be on a small scouting excursion.” 

The two archers exchanged a mutual glance of uncertainty.

“Annette and Lysithea, we’re gonna need some analysis on some of that gear we got from the Agarthans and I feel the two of you are the only ones who’ll really understand it.” 

Annette stopped playing with her hair and gave a wave to her academic rival, who returned it with a small nod and smile.

“Ingrid, you and Leonie are going hunting.”

Leonie nodded dutifly, as did Ingrid.

“Sylvain and Lorenz, you’re on guard duty.”

Lorenz sighed. Meanwhile, Sylvain was just slightly dismayed at being unable to have been matched with one of the girls.

“Felix and Raphael, you two’ll be training with some of the troops.”

Raphael gave his usual wide grin. Felix, meanwhile, still had his usual distant look, though he did seem to acknowledge the request.

“Mercedes and Marianne, you’ll be handling the stables. A few of our horses still haven’t fully recovered from the journey up here.”

Marianne gave a light polite nod to her partner, which Mercedes returned.

“And finally, since I know we basically had to drag you from it to get you here,” Claude remarked to Dedue, “I think Hilda will just be joining you for the day.”

“Wait,” Hilda asked, “So all I have to do is stand around Dimitri’s tent all day?” 

“Yep.”

The pink-haired warrior almost jumped with joy.

“That’s about it,” Claude finished, “Get going and remember to work together. This’ll be on the test.”

The new partners began to leave, with Bernadetta sneaking out alongside them. Soon, the only ones left were him and Byleth.

As soon as they were all gone, Claude let out a sigh of relief. 

“Ok, so then, what exactly are we doing?” He asked his friend.

“I’m going to have to have a talk with Bernadetta,” Byleth replied, “She seems to know some things about the whereabouts of the Black Eagles that we don’t.”

Claude raised an eyebrow.

“What makes you think that?”

“She came to talk with me a week ago, about thanking me for helping her,” His friend explained, “And Bernadetta is… not the best at keeping secrets.”

“Said too much didn’t she?” Claude asked half-jokingly, which was confirmed by a small nod from his teacher.

He put his hand to his chin, “Bringing them in now probably isn’t the best idea. We already got one reunion to deal with, not to mention the possibility of Edelgard...” Byleth seemed to avert his gaze for a moment, something Claude managed to catch before he snapped back to attention, “And especially with Dimitri being… well, you know…”

“Still, it’d be nice to at least know about their current whereabouts,” He remarked, “Speaking of Dimitri, trying to have a chat with him is gonna be my scheme for the day.”

Byleth raised an eyebrow in amusement, “Keeping up a quota?”

“Well, of course,” Claude grinned, “Have to keep myself sharp somehow.”

The grin faded away, “We need the old Dimitri back, and I’m not gonna stop until I find him.”

“I know he’s in there. Somewhere.”

The Reigan’s expression lightened up again, “Well, no use sitting around. Let’s hope fates on our side today.”

Byleth nodded, and the two of them left the tent.

“So, what exactly have you been doing for the last few years?” Ingrid asked Leonie as they trotted. They were checking a few of the traps Leonie and a few others had set up over the last few days, intended to catch small game. Their group required quite a lot of food, especially since Judith’s wyvern riders had joined up, so they needed every scrap of meat they could find.

“Finally managed to get into the mercenary business,” Leonie responded, her horse keeping pace with Ingrid’s grounded pegasus, “Technically, I’m indefinitely employed to Claude at the moment.”

Ingrid nodded, “Becoming a mercenary was your dream, wasn’t it?”

“It was,” Leonie confirmed, “Ever since Captain Jeralt visited my village.”

She turned her gaze out toward the horizon, “I like to think he's proud of me, wherever he is.”

She looked back towards her partner for the day, “You always wanted to be a knight, right?” 

Leonie had to admit to herself that she and Ingrid were never exactly acquaintances during their academy days. In fact, outside of some group assignments, they never really interacted with each other at all.

“Indeed,” Ingrid replied solemnly, “I always hoped I’d be serving the rightful King by this time, defending the people and defeating the enemies of the Kingdom.”

She let out a tired sigh.

“I never thought in my wildest dreams that I’d be a fugitive from my own homeland.”

Leonie shot her a sympathetic glance.

“Don’t worry yourself,” The Galatea heir replied sharply, “I’ve resolved myself to still achieve that goal, in my own way.”

Leonie gave a small but hearty laugh with a smile, “That’s the same line of thought I had when I started doing mercenary work,” She responded to Ingrid’s unamused stare, “No matter how much I was offered, I never accepted a single job that didn’t sit right with me.”

Her face lit up with remincense, “I told myself that no matter what, I was gonna follow my rules. I wanted to be like Jeralt, not just another easily swayed sword for hire.”

“You sound more like a knight-errant than a mercenary,” Ingrid remarked with a hint of sadness.

“Well that’s flattering coming from you,” Leonie admitted, “Though I’ll admit I did demand payment for a lot of the jobs I did take. Had to pay my village back somehow.”

Leonie turned back to find Ingrid looking off into the distance.

“I’m sorry,” She remarked, “Ever since Garreg Mach, his Highness’ framing, our exile from the Kingdom… I’ve felt… lost.”

“And you, the rest of the Deer… You’ve all managed to get everything. Followed your dreams, and now, fighting against the enemy together. The Professor even returned from the grave to assist you…”

She averted her gaze, ashamed of herself, “I know it's selfish, and I know that you’ve all probably struggled and suffered just as much as we have. But I can’t help but feel… jealous, in a way.”

Leonie remained silent. She had to admit, if she was in Ingrid’s position, she would’ve probably felt the same. It reminded her of a conversation she’d had with Byleth in the weeks (Or was it months?) before that fateful day at the Holy Tomb. After Jeralt’s death. For five years, she regretted what she said in a fit of anger and jealousy. It only ended when she had a proper conversation with the Professor and apologized profusely, shortly after his return.

She wasn’t going to let Ingrid go down the same path. 

“It’s fine,” She admitted, turning to Ingrid, “What’s important now is that we’re all moving forward on the same path, together.”

Leonie’s expression turned determined, “And none of us are gonna leave each other behind.”

Ingrid gained a small smile, “You’re right.”

“Anyways,” Leonie remarked, glancing towards the slowly descending sun, “We gotta get going. It's gonna be dark soon.”

Ingrid nodded, and the two of them both spurred their horses to go faster.

As it turned out, the Blue Lions had also found a handful of advanced Agarthan weapons during their occasional raids on Agarthan patrols passing through the area. Unfortunately, they weren’t nearly as intact as the few the Golden Deer had picked up, at least by the time Dimitri had finished with their wielders.

“So, from what I’ve gathered,” Lysithea explained to her academic rival-turned-partner, who was joining her in looking over the modified Levin Sword they’d acquired from the Golden Deer’s checkpoint attack a few weeks earlier, “These seem to be prototypes of sorts, given to higher ranking Agarthans as a reward for service.”

“Interesting…” Annette agreed, still twirling a lock of her hair in one hand, “I mean, these things can rival Heroes Relic’s in terms of power, but they can be used by anyone, right?”

“Yes,” Lysithea noted, taking a closer look at the blade, “The techniques used to make this must’ve been extremely advanced. I don’t think anyone, anywhere in Fódlan could’ve made this before their arrival…”

The pale mage trailed off, looking unsure.

“You know, if they’d used all their technology to help people, instead of oppressing them… hurting them,” Annette remarked sadly, “They could’ve done so much good.”

“It’s far too late for that now,” Lysithea responded bitterly. 

“Lysithea…” Annette said softly, putting a comforting hand on her classmate’s shoulder.

“I’m fine,” She objected, shaking Annette off, “Let’s just focus on the task at hand.”

Annette retracted her hand as Lysithea picked up the weapon. Small bolts of electricity began to dance across the blade, seemingly activated by the sword now being actively “In use”, so to speak.

“You sure about this?” Annette remarked cautiously.

“By all accounts it should be safe…” She responded, sounding equally cautious despite the confident statement. She waved the sword around like a wand. In one swing, bolts shot from the blade and detonated into the ground, scorching the earth and kicking up dust. Annette nearly jumped. It was louder then she’d thought it’d be.

“The power behind this is immense,” Lysithea mused, “But what I can’t understand is _why_.”

“What do you mean?”

Lysithea set the weapon back down onto the table where it had been resting previously, “The metal work, the intricate way the crystals are set and configured… It should result in a more powerful Levin Sword, but not _this_ powerful.”

She wiped her forehead, “Where is it getting all this magical power from? I have to be missing something.”

“Let me see,” Annette said, picking up the sword for herself with one hand.

Lysithea tensed up, “You don’t still happen to have that habit of dropping things, do you?”

“I’ve gotten better,” Annette responded before nearly dropping the weapon, stopping it by quickly grabbing the hilt with both hands. She let out a small, nervous, chuckle, “See, never left my hand…”

Lysithea still took a step backwards, just to be safe.

“Just gotta figure out where the powers coming from, just gotta figure out where the magics surging from…” Annette hummed to herself as she began to fiddle around with the sword in her hands.

Suddenly, a soft beeping sound began to emerge from the weapon, causing Annette to drop it back onto the workbench, deliberately this time. She quickly jumped back to join Lysithea.

“What did you do?” Lysithea asked worriedly.

“I think I hit something,” Annette replied quickly, her eyes wide, “It’s not gonna explode, is it?”

They exchanged a quick, mutral glance of panic.

The two immediately began scrambling for cover. Lysithea hid behind a crate, while Annette leapt behind an inexplicable nearby barrel. 

After a few moments, the two mages heard the beeping sound fade, followed by a small hiss. 

Taking a slow, cautious look from behind her refuge, Annette saw a few small puffs of what looked to be steam floating upwards from the device. The blue crystals and lines across the sword looked like they had been dulled, turning from a distinct light blue to a darker azure.

“I-I think I might’ve turned it off somehow,” Annette observed, still nervous that the modified weapon could explode (or worse) any second now.

Lysithea slowly and meticulously got up from her own cover and began making her way towards the workbench.

“It looks like you’ve managed to somehow release some kind of power source,” She reported. Annette looked a bit closer. It did seem like the handle had extended forward a bit. She realized that it had actually telescoped out, revealing a small compartment in the handle. Looks like her clumsiness was useful, for once.

“Now we can finally get a proper look at where all of this additional energy is coming from,” Lysithea continued as Annette got up, dusting herself off before she joined her companion.

As she did so, however, Lysithea let out a loud gasp, followed by the sound of metal clattering onto wood. Annette looked over to see a horrified, shaking Lysithea, her hands to her mouth. 

The younger mage sat on the ground, breathing heavily and huddling her knees to her chest.

“It’s blood,” She said in between breaths, mortified, “I-It’s powered by blood.”

A brief glance towards the blade revealed to Annette that, inside of the formerly hidden compartment, there was a small vial filled with crimson liquid. Various small pipes and tubes were connected to it, with more blood visibly flowing through them and going into the rest of the weapon.

Annette quickly sat down next to her friend, putting a comforting hand on her shoulder once again. This time, Lysithea didn’t make any attempt to shrug it off.

They sat there for a while as Lysithea caught her breath.

“Of course they’d use blood…” She finally said after a few minutes of silence, “Why should I have expected anything else…”

She sighed, “I’m sorry you had to see me like that.”

“Don’t blame yourself,” Annette responded, “I know the horrible things they did to you and your siblings. It's not healthy to just bottle those emotions up.”

“I know, I know. I was naive and…” Lysithea began, only to stop when she saw Annette’s sympathetic expression, “I just… I thought I could’ve saved anyone else from going through the same things I did…”

“But you did,” Annette objected, “You saved me at least. And Ingrid, Felix, and Sylvain. If it wasn’t for your warning, my Uncle, Ingrid’s dad… They might not have been able to get us into hiding in time. And I’m sure there's gotta be a ton of other people who can say the same.”

“So… Thank you.”

Lysithea gave her a small smile, “Then I suppose at least one good thing came out of it.”

They sat there for a while. Eventually, Annette retracted her hand, seeing that Lysithea didn't need it anymore.

Annette looked towards the Levin Sword, still lying motionlessly on the table, “I guess using these weapons against them is out of the question now,” She remarked.

Lysithea got up from the ground, Annette joining her, “Yes, especially since we’d have no way of getting more of this specific blood,” The Ordelia responded, returning to her usual tone of voice, “Who knows what the requirements for it to draw power from it could be.”

“I think we’re done for the day,” Annette said, “Wanna join me in trying out some new recipes in the kitchen?”

Lysithea gained a confused expression, “Why do you ask?”

“I thought after all that time you spent tutoring me,” Annette responded, “Maybe I can try and teach you something for a change?”

“Annette I don’t...” Lysithea responded, before visibly reconsidering, “Actually, that sounds splendid.”

“Say, Lorenz,” Sylvain remarked, “I’ve been wondering how you’ve been holding up all this time.”

The two of them were guarding the outside of the cave the caravan was currently situated in. Lorenz was on his horse, vigilantly keeping watch. Sylvain, meanwhile, wasn’t taking the assignment nearly as seriously. Instead he was resting against a nearby rock, laying on it with his hands behind his head.

“What do you mean?” 

“Well,” Sylvain continued, “You always played yourself up as the quintessential nobleman, always going on and on about you becoming the head of your house. I’ve just been wondering how you feel now that you’re forced to be at the same level as the ‘rabble’.”

Sylvain said the last word with an exaggerated “posh” accent.

Lorenz, meanwhile, just looked annoyed, “If you’re implying that I’m against doing work such as this, I can assure you that you are mistaken. Easing the burdens of the commonfolk _is_ a natural obligation of the nobility, after all.”

Sylvain looked at Lorenz with a mixture of surprise and respect, “You know Lorenz? I think that statement alone makes you more respectable than half the noblemen I’ve ever met.”

Lorenz let out a small laugh, “Consider yourself lucky that you weren’t born to an Alliance house, then. So much time spent arguing, yet so little was spent actually making compromises.”

Sylvain let out a laugh of his own, “No way the Lorenz I knew at the academy would’ve said that,” He shot a serious glare at him, “What have you done with him?”

The Gloucester actually looked taken aback by Sylvain’s sudden change, and was relieved when he reverted to his previous expression with a small chuckle.

“Got you for a second there didn’t I?” Sylvain said, “But speaking of our academy years, you remember that little bet we had?”

“You mean our contest of romantic techniques?” Lorenz replied, recalling he and Sylvain’s failure to demonstrate their respective flirting techniques.

“Yep,” Sylvain confirmed, “Sooo… Any success since then?”

“Sadly, no,” Lorenz replied, “You?”

Sylvain sighed, “Nope.”

He leaned back further, staring at the sky, “I mean I’ve had all this time alone with Annette, Mercedes, and Ingrid but….”

He got back up, “I’m not sure if it's because we’ve kinda been depending on each other for survival for a while now, or because the whole crest system is gone but… It just doesn’t feel right anymore.”

Lorenz chuckled, “Looks like I’m not the only one who’s changed. Sylvain not trying to charm any woman he comes across? I thought such a thing wasn’t possible.”

Sylvain laid back down, returning to staring towards the sky with a neutral expression, “Yeah, things really have changed…”


	15. Supports and Reports

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Golden Deer and Blue Lions continue their partnerships, while Claude and Byleth try to make breakthroughs of their own.

Resistance Camp

Caring for the small menagerie of mounts and draft animals the Golden Deer possessed wasn’t exactly easy work, but to Mercedes it brought back a familiar sense of purpose. It’d been years since the academy, the occasional assignment of caring for the stable animals from Professor Hanneman, learning the basics of mounted combat during the curriculum, and occasionally just helping Sylvain or Ingrid with their own horses in her spare time. It wasn’t easy work then either, but looking back at it now Mercedes could only recall the feeling of stability her years at the monastery had given her. 

She supposed she may have taken them for granted, considering what'd happened since then.

Finishing a small spell to heal one of the riding wyverns’ wings from a small case of frostbite, Mercedes looked up to see Marianne calmly petting the mane of a certain brown horse.

“Is that Dorte?” Mercedes questioned, letting the wyvern rest to finish the healing process as she walked over to the blue haired girl.

“Oh?” Marianne responded, having been preoccupied in caring for her friend, “Oh, um, yes.”

She let the stallion’s mane go, allowing him to join a few of his fellows in eating from a recently restocked feeder that was almost overflowing with hay.

“Professor Hanneman and Alois let him come with me when we were forced to leave the monastery,” She remarked, “They said none of the knights had the same bond with him that I did... so they figured I’d find better use for him in the days ahead.”

“That,” She added with a small smile, “And Alois was almost in tears at the thought of the two of us being separated.”

Mercedes was shocked.

“Marianne, you’re smiling!”

The adopted Edmund gained a look of surprise along before blushing out of slight embarrassment, “I-I guess we haven’t seen each other in quite a while… I’ve… I’ve changed these last few years.”

“I’m really happy for you."

“Back then,” Marianne mused, “I always thought that I… I was nothing more than a burden. A curse.”

She clasped her hands together and looked up hopefully, “But… since then I’ve learned that… the people I care about, and who care for me… It doesn’t matter what I am to them.”

“And,” She finished, “It shouldn’t matter to me either.”

Mercedes gave her fellow healer a kind look. 

“I believe everyone is fully healed and cared for,” Marianne remarked, her gaze directed towards the various mounts, which were all now either happily eating or resting, “Would you like to join me for my daily prayers?”

“I’d love to,” Mercedes responded, “Just, allow me to gather a few of my things.”

“Alright,” Marianne went over and whispered a small goodbye to Dorte before making her way out of the area.

As she left, however, Mercedes’ smile faded slightly, not that Marianne noticed.

The Martritz stood there in thought. It warmed her heart how Marianne had grown over the years. She’d gone from a quiet, meek girl who seemed forever drowned in self-loathing, to a much healthier and confident young woman. Even if the two of them hadn’t interacted all that much back then, it was still nice to see her personal growth. She felt the same whenever she saw how much any of her newly reunited classmates had improved. Bernadetta was more comfortable with other people. Hilda was more active and less… manipulative in regards to work. Ignatz was more sure of himself and his future. Even Lorenz seemed to have greatly matured his outlook on others.

But there was one person she could never get off her mind. The one she’d failed before any of this.

And now, she didn’t even know if he was even still alive.

“Emile…” She muttered sadly.

It wasn’t surprising to Felix that most of the troops he sparred with didn’t last too long. They simply didn’t have the same training and drive to win that he had. At least these men now had a lesson to dwell on the next time they went into real combat. Or at the very least, they’d let him take care of any threats they couldn’t.

But what did surprise him was the soldiers’ enthusiasm when he challenged Raphael.

“Hey everyone!” One of them announced as he and Raphael retrieved a set of wooden training weapons, “The blueblood’s about to spar with The Beast!”

Picking up a wooden shield, Felix raised an eyebrow at the muscular Golden Deer, “The Beast?”

“Oh, that,” Raphael responded, glancing aside bashfully, “It’s just a little nickname a few of the guys came up with. It's a little embarrassing honestly, but Claude said to just let them have their fun.”

He held up the pair of tonfa-like training weapons, “Besides, if I’m gonna be a great knight, I’m gonna have to accept a few titles!” He playfully tapped Felix’s shoulder.

Felix scoffed. He’d seen first-hand what happened to “Great Knights” like Glenn.

They died for _nothing_.

Still, if Raphael had earned such a title, he might actually be an interesting opponent. It’d be refreshing to finally have another worthy sparring partner, especially since Byleth was too busy to even consider his challenges anymore.

“You two ready?” One of Judith’s wyvern riders announced, yelling over the small crowd that had gathered around the sparring pit.

Felix brandished his wooden blade, “Don’t hold back,” He instructed Raphael, “I want to see all this strength you’re so proud of.”

His opponent flexed and cracked his neck, “If you insist! Just don’t blame me if you get a little banged up, ok?”

Felix got into a ready position with his blade, while Raphael got into a fighting stance.

“Alright… Begin!”

Felix dashed forward to make the first move, delivering a swift two-handed slash to Raphael’s right. The grappler blocked the attack with his gauntlet, keeping Felix’s wooden blade at bay despite his attempts to break Raphael’s guard. While the crowd cheered around them, Felix spotted Raphael’s left arm going for an attack of his own.

The Fraldarius jumped back, barely dodging Raphael’s jab.

The two fighters stood across from each other. Raphael still had his usual happy-go-lucky smile, despite the fact that Felix could tell the giant was waiting for an opening just as much as he was.

“Here I come!” Raphael yelled as he charged forward, to the excitement of the crowd.

“Announcing your own attack?” Felix said to himself as he dodged Raphael’s swing. He couldn’t believe his opponent would make such a mistake. It made it all too easy to avoid and retaliate. Was he trying to lose?

Felix raised his sword to make an attack of his own.

Unless, Felix realized as he saw Raphael readjust his stance and send his other training gauntlet flying towards the swordsman’s exposed side, it was a feint.

Felix was barely able to raise the wooden shield strapped to his off-hand to block the strike, though the force still sent him stumbling back. He heard the sound of wood splintering and breaking and noticed that Raphael’s strike had broken the shield into wooden shards. The crowd took notice as well, talking amongst themselves about how The Beast had broken another shield in two.

Felix braced himself, firmly gripping his sword to his side. He wasn’t going to fall for a trick like that again.

Once again, Raphael rushed him, and once again, he dodged the first attack. He intercepted the second with his sword, holding the attack back before pushing it away.

Felix raised his sword and brought it down towards Raphael’s head. The giant was forced to use both gauntlets to block it, holding the blade above his head. Like Felix done to him, Raphael pushed the sword back, breaking Felix’s stance.

The Beast proceeded to make another swipe, but Felix dodged under his arm and repositioned himself behind Raphael. Felix tried to land a slash on his opponent’s back, only to find himself blocked by Raphael’s gauntlet yet again.

This was how the fight went for a while, though Felix was so focused on the battle that he became oblivious to how much time had actually passed. Could’ve been seconds, could’ve been minutes. All he knew was that Raphael wasn’t giving him an inch in this fight. 

Wooden sword met wooden gauntlets over and over, neither side managing to land an actual hit on the other’s body, only occasionally clashing their weapons. Raphael’s nickname wasn’t an exaggeration. His fighting style was reminding Felix of a less savage version of Dimitri’s.

Eventually, the two of them ended up in almost the same positions they started in. Standing across from each other, waiting for an opening.

And an opening was exactly what Felix saw.

Rushing forward, he dodged Raphael’s jab and made a slash straight towards the grappler’s neck, stopping his blade inches away from making contact as to avoid injuring him.

“I’ve won,” Felix declared under his breath as he held his stance. 

“And it's a draw!” The overseer announced as the crowd cheered around him, yelling praises for both fighters.

Felix’s eyes widened.

“What? A draw?”

Taking a glance downward, Felix saw, to his shock, that Raphael’s gauntlet was inches away from impacting his gut.

If it had been a real battle, they would’ve both drawn blood at the exact same time.

Raphael dropped his stance first, reaching his hand out for a hand shake, “That was a great match Felix! We gotta work out together some time. You’re a lot stronger than you look!”

Felix sheathed his own sword and, though he didn’t return Raphael’s smile, accepted the handshake.

Looks like he’d found a worthy sparring partner after all.

Byleth managed to catch the tail end of Felix and Raphael’s spar. It reminded him of the old tournaments they used to hold in Garreg Mach. He was actually a bit surprised to see the tie. While Raphael was an experienced fighter, Felix’s proficiency had always been one on one combat. Either Felix was slipping, which wasn’t likely considering his constant training, or Raphael was making serious improvements to his fighting style.

Byleth finally spotted his true objective hidden in the background of all the commotion. Bernadetta was busy knitting, though she made the occasional glance towards the makeshift training grounds. She’d seemed to have developed a tendency to hang around Felix most of the time. It made sense, considering how long they were traveling together. 

The green-haired professor made sure he was in Bernadetta’s line of sight as he approached her. He, and several others, knew from experience that startling the purple-haired girl was a good way to kill any chances for conversation. Luckily, Bernadetta both noticed him and actually looked slightly relieved to see him.

“Oh, hey Professor. Do you need something?” She asked, setting aside the small blanket she was repairing.

“Yes, actually,” He replied, glancing around. If Bernie was was going to tell him anything, It’d probably best if said information was between the two of them. Especially with Dimitri being around, “I’d like to discuss something in private.”

“W-why? You want to kill me or something?” Byleth gave her a concerned look, only for Bernadetta to let out a small, nervous laugh, “Just kidding.... B-But seriously, why can’t we just talk about it here?”

“I feel it’d be best if any talk about the Black Eagles is kept between us,” Byleth stated as Bernadetta looked alarmed, “At least, for now.”

“Black Eagles? I don’t know any Black Eagles!” Bernadetta blurted out, slightly panicked.

Byleth raised an eyebrow. 

She sighed, conceding defeat, “Alright, I see your point.”

“So what gave it away?” Bernadetta questioned. The two of them had decided to continue the talk in the back of one of the now emptied carts. It was in a fairly quiet corner of the cave, and most importantly was quite far from Dimitri, the absolute last person Byleth wanted hearing any part of the conversation.

“A few of your verbal corrections when you came to thank me,” Byleth replied honestly.

“Oh.” Bernadetta responded, “You know, I was actually going to tell you about them back then, but with Claude’s plan to go get the Lions and stuff, I kind of… panicked and stopped myself.”

“That’s understandable,” Byleth admitted, “So, you do have a general idea of their whereabouts?”

“A bit more than that,” Bernie scratched the back of her neck timidly, “You know how the Deer and the Lions all managed to all get together after the Agarthans took over?”

Byleth nodded.

“We kinda did that too. Or, well, Hubert did,” That got Byleth’s interest. He hadn’t heard the name of Edelgard’s shadow in a long time, “He gathered us all together after a while. His family has this… mansion. It's really hard to get to, and the fact that it exists at all is this big secret his house has been keeping for years.”

Byleth held his hand to his chin, “The perfect place to hide.”

“Yeah…” Bernadetta had an unfocused smile, like she was remembering something pleasant, “I mean, it wasn’t the monastery, but…”

Her reminiscence was interrupted by Byleth knocking lightly on the wooden seat of the cart.

“A-Anyways,” She continued, blushing slightly, “After a while, everyone was starting to get a little… uncomfortable. We wanted to do something but it was only us. So they decided that… I’d just have to go out and find Claude and whatever plans he was drawing up...”

That… didn’t sound right. Of all the people to journey across the continent to find help, why choose Bernadetta instead of Caspar or Petra? Why not just leave together?

“That sounds slightly… cruel,” Byleth remarked, to Bernadetta’s confusion.

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, sending you, alone, to travel across Fódlan,” He clarified, “Why didn’t any of them come with you?”

Bernadetta fidgeted her fingers, “They wanted to… but they couldn’t.”

“Dorothea was a famous songstress in the capital, Petra is Brigid royalty, Lindhart and Caspar are heirs to important houses, Ferdinand’s father is Prime Minister… There was nowhere they could go that wouldn’t recognize them, especially with half the Imperial army looking for us…”

She looked towards the floor, “But… My father never showed me to anyone who wasn’t a rich noble, and since I was always locked away in my room… No one would really know who I was, or at least what I looked like.”

Now it made sense.

“I was the only one who had a chance to make it out of Imperial territory.”

Bernadetta returned her gaze to Byleth, now with a small but sincere smile, “I guess all those years of hiding myself in my den were worth something after all…”

Byleth agreed.

“The others didn’t want me to go alone either,” Bernadetta resumed her fidgeting, “So they tried their best to prepare me for the journey. Petra gave me hunting lessons, Caspar and Ferdinand taught me some melee training, and everyone pooled together to get all the coins and traveling supplies they could find. Dorothea and Lindhart even tried to teach me some magic but it… didn’t go well.”

Byleth cracked a small smile at the thought of all the Black Eagles preparing Bernadetta like an overprotective parent.

“And, well, you know the story from there,” She finished, “I met Felix, we went to Ailell, and eventually we wound up here.”

“Does Felix know about what you just told me?”

“Well, um, he…” She rubbed the back of her neck, “Yeah. He just… confronted me about it one night and I… kinda told him everything.”

“So, where is that mansion?” Byleth asked calmly, “It may not be our priority right now, but Claude and I are looking to bring the rest of the Black Eagles into this as well.”

“It’s in, uh,” Bernadetta sat there in thought for a moment, “Between Arundel and Varley. On the other side of the mountain from Remire Village, actually.”

“Thank you.”

“I-it’s nothing,” Bernadetta responded bashfully, “I’ve been trying to find the right moment to tell you or Claude about it anyways…”

“So... can I go now?”

“Actually, I have one last question…” Byleth began before trailing off. He wasn’t sure if he wanted to know the answer.

“...Was Edelgard there too?”

Bernadetta winced. She averted her gaze, frowning, “Kind of…”

Byleth was confused.

“She doesn’t really talk to anyone or do anything,” She recalled sadly, “She just spends all her time… sitting there.”

“We’ve all tried talking to her, but she usually doesn’t respond and if she does it's usually small and quiet. It's like she’s just… gone.”

“I heard from around camp that you faced Sir Gwendal in combat recently.”

Ignatz and Ashe were both hidden behind a large rock, observing an old path. It was an old merchant route, one that’d been rendered obsolete around a decade ago by the construction of a bridge a few miles down that allowed travellers to get to the same locations without the detour. But Ignatz knew that the route never became entirely unused. The bridge was often guarded by mercenaries or guards hired by the nearby towns, so those with more… unsavory goods tended to take the long way. Still, it seemed that it hadn’t been used in a long while. Grass was beginning to grow back onto the grounds that’d long been worn by wagon wheels. In the coming days, the caravan would travel along it.

Ignatz himself was busy making a small sketch of the area on a piece of spare parchment. He’d found it was a useful technique, in that it both allowed him to practice his drawing, but also allowed him to quickly notice if anything had changed in the days between his scouting and the main group traveling. A simple unexplained log or bush could easily be cover for an ambush or trap. In fact, the Deer had avoided more than one such ambush thanks to the trick.

Ashe, meanwhile, was keeping lookout. His bow was drawn, just in case anyone or anything tried to sneak up on him, but he still was trying to make quiet conversation to pass the time. 

“Oh?” Ignatz was more focused on his sketch, “Oh, yes. His forces were waiting for us at the Valley of Torment. He refused to surrender so we had to… dispatch him.”

Ashe sighed, “Well, he died as he lived,” He looked slightly saddened by the news, “I actually served under Gwendal for a short time, after we all fled the monastery. He was a close friend of Lord Lonato, so he both offered me a position in his battalion and made sure my siblings were cared for after Lonato’s… passing.”

Ignatz felt a pang of guilt. The Golden Deer were the house who ultimately ended up facing Lonato in his final battle. He hadn’t even seen Ashe’s adopted father during the fighting, only hearing the news that Byleth, Claude, and Catherine had slain him in combat. And now, they’d killed the one who’d taken his place in Ashe’s life.

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be,” Ashe responded, “That was the way Gwendal lived his life. It was a fitting end, at least to him.”

The issue was that it wasn’t just Gwendal that Ignatz was apologizing for.

“So,” Ignatz finished off the last few details of his sketch and put his quill back onto his coat, “What made you leave his service?”

Ashe looked off into the distance, going quiet, “We were given orders from House Rowe to… pacify a village.”

Ignatz already didn’t like where this was going.

“They villagers had committed the ‘crime’ of throwing things at a group of Agarthan crest hunters,” He recalled bitterly, “Because a handful of people had gone missing while an Agarthan patrol was passing through.”

Ignatz had heard rumors that several regions of Faerghus were growing rebellious, on account of the absurd taxes Duchess Cornelia had imposed on them after she came into power. He guessed retaliation for harassing the patrol wasn’t the only reason House Rowe’s forces were sent in. They wanted to make an example for the others.

“Gwendal owed everything to Count Rowe, so he couldn’t disobey. He was as loyal to him as Dedue is to Dimitri. But, he also knew I’d never be able to go through with it. So he dismissed me on the grounds that I’d been struck by a mysterious illness. Eventually, I found my way back to classmates and well…”

He shook his head.

“What about your siblings?” Ignatz asked, “Are they alright?”

“Yes,” Ashe replied, Ignatz breathing a sigh of relief, “I haven’t seen them since, but House Gaspard swore to me that they would be taken care of. I hope I’ll be able to meet with them again soon.”

“We should get going now,” Ignatz folded his sketch and put it into his pocket.

The two of them began to sneak away, being careful to stay in the shadows just in case anything came down the path.

“Ashe…” Ignatz remarked as they walked, “Do you still plan on becoming a knight?”

“Of course,” He responded, “In my favorite stories, the most noble knights come when they’re needed the most. And I think Fódlan needs them now more than ever.”

When Hilda was assigned to effectively hang out with Dedue all day, she tried to remember all their good times together at the monastery.

And when that failed, she tried to remember any of the times she’d had with Dedue.

And when _that_ failed, she realized that, for all the time they’d been at the academy together, they simply never interacted. Sure, they weren’t complete strangers, she often saw him with Dimitri when she tagged along with Claude to the house leaders’ meetings, but in terms of familiarity they’d practically never met. 

“So…” She searched her memories for anything she’d remembered even seeing Dedue doing, other then hanging around Dimitri of course. The most she could come up with was that she’d seen him in the greenhouse on occasion, which wasn’t exactly relevant to their current circumstances, “You seen anything interesting lately?”

It wasn’t much of a conversation starter, but then again she didn’t exactly have much to go on. Dedue spent almost all his time in the same position he was in now; standing guard outside of Dimitri’s medical tent.

Dedue didn’t say anything. He just continued his usual vigil, his axe and shield in his hands, his expression like unmoving stone.

“Do anything interesting lately?”

Again, no response.

“Look,” Hilda huffed, stomping her foot on the ground, “I know you don’t like small talk, but if we’re going to be forced to stick together all-day you could _at least respond!”_

__

__

This time, Dedue actually turned his head towards Hilda and gave a small response, “I’m here to watch over His Highness during his recovery. _Nothing more._”

Hilda was actually taken aback by how blunt he was being, though in hindsight this wasn’t exactly shocking coming from him, “You know the whole reason Claude gave us this job was so we can all reconnect with each other, right?”

“My loyalty is to His Highness, not to your lord.” He countered, “Though I am grateful for the help that your forces have provided me and my friends, it does not supersede that fact.”

Hilda groaned. When she’d been assigned to Dedue, she thought it’d effectively be a day off. Only now did she realize she was stuck here, in the lonely medical corner of camp, with nothing to do while everyone else was out and about. 

Luckily, she spotted Claude walking towards them. Was he her salvation from this? Did he realize that assigning her to Dedue was a mistake?

“Hey Claude!” She greeted, putting on a cheery disposition while discretely pulling him to the side, out of Dedue’s sight.

“Please tell me you’re here to reassign me to someone else,” She continued quietly, her fake smile dropping.

“Now Hilda,” Claude responded with a coy smile, “You looked so excited when you two got grouped together, what changed?”

“Look, I don’t want to be rude, but it's just not working,” Hilda complained, “He barely talks, we have nothing in common, and he doesn’t seem to care about anything other than Dimitri! Are you sure I can’t just work with Annette or Mercedes instead? At least they’re doing something!”

“Hilda begging to do work,” Claude noted with a smirk, “Never thought I’d see the day.”

“Claude come on-”

“You know I’m pretty sure he can hear us.”

Hilda turned around to see that, sure enough, Dedue was staring right at them.

“Well at least you have something to talk about,” Claude patted her on the shoulder as Hilda’s face went red, “Now if you’ll excuse me, I’ve got to do some work of my own.”

Dedue begrudgingly let the Alliance lord into Dimitri’s tent as Hilda hid her head in her hand.

Claude pulled up his usual chair. This was far from the first time he’d visited Dimitri, and he had a feeling that despite his hopes that it was far from the last. So he’d decided to just get a small wooden chair for whenever he’d come to chat. It certainly beat just standing there the whole time.

“You know, our healers told me that you should be back to normal in a day or two,” Claude informed the recently awoken Prince, “Finally be fully recovered from all those untreated wounds. Well, not fully recovered. You’re gonna have some pretty nasty scars.”

Dimitri glared at him. Same glare as always, a mix of bitterness and annoyance.

“What game are you playing Claude?”

Claude tilted his head, “What?”

“You need me for something,” Dimitri remarked, still glaring at him with his uncovered eye, “That's why you keep coming here.”

“Well, you aren’t wrong,” Claude noted, after a brief look of concern, “But, is it really so hard to believe that I honestly want to help an old friend?”

“You only care if it benefits you,” Dimitri concluded, “You need a weapon. Another card for your hand, another arrow for your bow, _another pawn for your board._”

Claude scowled, “You really think that?”

“I know that,” Dimitri responded spitefully, “No matter what you claim to be now, you haven’t changed. You're still a deceitful, manipulative coward.”

“You know what?” Claude replied as the anger faded from his face, “You’re right. Here's my next grand scheme; you recover, Faerghus gets its prince back, and I get a powerful ally. Are you happy now?”

The bed-ridden royal let out a twisted half-laugh, “You think they’d accept a corpse for a king? You’re naive.”

Claude sighed, “Maybe I am. Or maybe I still believe in the Dimitri that I knew back at the academy, the one who used to lecture me about honor and chivalry, the one who hated even the _concept_ of murder.”

“You were the responsible one back then…” He noted to himself somberly, “What happened?”

The Blaiddyd spat onto the floor, saying one word with pure hatred, “_Edelgard…_”

“You know,” Claude interrupted him, “I’ve actually been doing some thinking about her role in the Tragedy,” Dimitri glared at him murderously, but Claude continued, “She would’ve been what, 13 or so at the time? Not exactly an age where one can plan multiple political assassinations…”

“_What are you implying,_” Dimitri said through gritted teeth.

“Look, I’m not saying Edelgard is innocent,” He explained, Dimitri’s anger visibly growing with every word, “Remire Village, Flayn’s kidnapping, Jeralt... She’s got a lot to answer for. But the Tragedy of Duscur? Things just don't add up...”

“Impossible,” Dimtri growled, “I know the Flame Emperor was involved-”

“Do you?” Claude retorted, “Or did you just latch on to the first figure you could blame?”

Claude had a split second to see his fellow house leader’s face contort into one of absolute hate.

Dimitri lunged out, grabbing Claude by his right collarbone before he could even react and yanking him closer. The Prince’s hand wrapped around his windpipe, and Claude had no doubt that, with how strong he was, that he could crush it on one motion.

“Listen here Claude,” Venom dripped from every word, “The dead call her name. They _demand_ her death, so that they may finally rest. If she had any co-conspirators, I will be sure to rend their names from her before she breathes her last. But make no mistake. _She. Dies. First._”

“And… what then?” It was hard to talk when someone strong enough to lift a caravan single-handedly was almost strangling you, “Let's say you do manage to track down and kill everyone responsible… What are you going to do then?”

Dimitri released his grip. Claude fell back into his chair, finally able to breathe unrestricted again. 

“_Leave_,” Dimitri commanded, his expression unreadable. 

Claude rubbed the new red spot around his throat, “Alright. Thanks for talking…”

He put the chair aside as he began to make his way out, “Think we can do this again tomorrow?”

Dimitri didn’t respond. 

All in all, from what Byleth could yell, the group work was a resounding success. At dinner, most of the former students were abuzz talking to each other, trading stories, informing their classmates what they’d done today, and just otherwise interacting with the other house much more than they had over the last few days. The only exception seemed to be Hilda, who’d sheepishly averted her gaze when Dedue went through his usual routine of grabbing two meals, one for himself and one for Dimitri, before leaving to resume his vigil over the prince.

He had to ask either her or Claude what that was about later.

Still, a nice feeling of nostalgia ran over him. It reminded the Professor of the days he’d spent hanging around the dining hall back at Garreg Mach. He didn’t realize how much he’d missed those times until now.

He suddenly felt someone tap him on the shoulder, turning to see Claude gesturing for him to meet in private.

“So,” the Alliance Lord began, “Any luck with Bernadetta?”

“Yes, actually,” Claude seemed pleasantly surprised, “It turns out she was sent by the rest of the Black Eagles to make contact with us. She’d been delaying it due to the Lions’ arrival.”

“Can’t really blame her,” Claude rubbed the side of his neck, “I’m assuming you mean all the Eagles?”

“Yes. Apparently they’ve been hiding out in a hidden House Vestra estate.”

“What are the odds everyone managed to have a little class reunion…” Claude mused, “If Hubert is involved... I’m assuming that means you-know-who is there?”

“She is but… she’s shut down,” Byleth recalled, “According to Bernadetta she's become a shell of her former self. Barely talking or doing anything but sit and stare out a window all day and night. Apparently something in her… broke after she escaped imprisonment.”

“Hmm...” Claude looked just as conflicted about this news as Byleth did.

Byleth broke the silence first, “And Dimitri?”

“Well, good news is that he’s talking to me a bit more,” Claude remarked, “Bad news is that other than that, we’ve been progressing… slowly..”

Claude crossed his arms, putting a hand to his chin, “He just can’t seem to let his obsession with killing Edelgard go.”

“So then, do you have a plan?” Byleth asked, “I asked Bernadetta to drop by your tent in the morning to give you their exact location, but what I can’t figure out is how we’ll be able to both secure their assistance and ensure that they can safely join us.”

Claude rolled his eyes, “Teach you know I _always_ have a plan.”

His expression turned serious, “Problem is, it's looking more and more like our only option is to take a major gamble.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Regarding Lord Lonato, at this point its been 5 years since his death, and since I'm just gonna say Ashe's paralogue was completed in this timeline, so he effectively has had closure on the matter for a while at this point.
> 
> Anyways, thanks for reading. I still can't believe how popular this story has become.


	16. A Test of Trust

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Resistance moves locations once again, while Claude and Byleth get closer to their next goal.

Resistance Camp

“...And that’s more or less it.”

“Interesting…” Claude mused. He’d just spent the last few minutes listening to Bernadetta’s story of what the Black Eagles were up to, why she’d been seeking the Golden Deer out, and how she’d ended up on her little journey in the first place. She was in a chair at the side of his little table, while Byleth was standing at the entrance of the tent to make sure that their discussion didn’t reach the wrong ears. 

Or to be more specific, didn’t reach Dimitri.

“So…” Bernadetta continued her usual fidgeting, “Is that all you need?”

“There is one thing that’s been bothering me,” He remarked, “If I know anything about Hubert, it's that he definitely doesn’t trust me. So why’d he send you halfway across the continent just to ask for my help?”

“He wasn’t exactly part of the planning...” Bernadetta admitted sheepishly. 

“Oh?”

“Yeah… Caspar and Ferdinand were the ones who originally came up with it,” The Black Eagle confessed, “Hubert didn’t actually find out until we settled on sending me out. We kinda had to tell him because we thought he, uh, might try to kill me when he realized I was gone. He didn’t actually mind that much, just made me promise not to tell anyone other than you.”

“Hubert spends a lot of his time tending to Edelgard,” She informed Claude, “Either that or trying to keep our location hidden. Usually by stopping us from doing… anything that’d attract attention.”

“But,” Claude added, “Still doesn’t answer the question. Why me?”

“Linhardt figured you were the only good option we had,” Bernadetta recalled, “The Knights are gone, we thought the Professor was gone, and Dimitri…”

Claude shrugged, though for a moment a sad expression crossed his face, “Alright, makes sense.”

“Can I go now please?” She asked nervously. 

“Yes. I know this wasn’t easy, but thanks, for the intel and everything else,” Claude told the purple-haired archer with a nod. She returned the gesture before leaving, nearly running into Byleth on the way out, “Well then, looks like our next move is certain.”

“So it does,” Byleth noted, his hand to his chin in thought, “Claude, are you sure about this?”

“Yeah,” He responded, though he still sounded somewhat uncertain, “At this point, we just have to hope that this all works out for the best.”

“Alright everyone, this place has treated us well, but I think it's time to move on.”

Once again, the combined Golden Deer and Blue Lions were gathered around Claude’s command table, with the new addition of Dimitri. The Prince’s wounds had finally healed enough for the healers to say it was safe for him to rejoin the group, though they warned him not to push himself too hard. 

Unfortunately, Byleth felt like that particular bit of advice fell on deaf ears. 

While Claude had offered Dimitri to stand at the front of the table alongside himself and the Professor, Dimitri decided to stay towards the back of the tent instead, accompanied by Dedue as always. 

“What’s wrong with where we are now?” Annette asked quietly to her classmates.

“A few things,” Leonie informed her, “There’s not enough wild game in the area, we’re too close to where the Agarthans found you guys… Honestly, migrating is the right idea.”

“So,” Sylvain spoke up to get Claude’s attention, “Where are we going?”

“Well…” Claude sighed, then looked towards Byleth gloomily. The Professor gave him a nod, which Claude returned before continuing, “Our next location is… what used to be Remire Village.”

Everyone, with the exception of Byleth, Claude, and Dimitri, seemed surprised.

“Claude,” Lorenz was the one speaking up this time, while murmurs rippled through the crowd, “May I ask why you chose Remire of all places?”

“Well,” Claude began, choosing his words carefully, “For one, it's been abandoned for years, so we won’t exactly have to deal with much attention. And, since it's in Imperial territory, it also opens up a variety of very promising targets.”

“When do we leave?”

Dimitri’s somewhat quiet, but still imposing statement seemed to silence the whole group.

“We leave at sundown,” Byleth informed everyone, “The bulk of the trip will be under the cover of night.”

“I see…” Mercedes mused.

“Our group _is_ getting too large to keep passing off as merchants…” Ignatz noted.

“So then, we’ve got the rest of the day to pack up,” Claude instructed, “Make sure we don’t leave anything or anyone behind. And don’t feel too guilty if you decide to get in some extra sleep during the trip, because I assure you I won’t.”

“That is all,” Byleth finished, “You’re dismissed.”

As the assembled students filled out of the tent, Hilda making half-serious offers to everyone in earshot to escape her share of the work, Claude and Byleth shared a quick glance.

This was going to work.

It had to.

Packing all of the equipment and supplies of the caravan ended up being a fairly easy process. Byleth supposed that was the one benefit of their group’s overcrowding; much more helping hands whenever they needed to move.

The sky was beginning to dye orange by the time they were done, yet the sun hadn’t quite touched the horizon either. Leonie was leading a handful of troops in making a final check on their supplies, both to ensure they wouldn’t leave anything behind and also to make sure they had enough to get through the journey. Almost everyone else was either helping them, or discussing recent events with the others.

Claude, meanwhile, had slinked off. He’d managed to acquire a hammock at some point, and Byleth had a feeling he’d be making ample use of it during their nightly journey. It was hard to blame him. Claude was usually up all day managing the Resistance and all night planning their next move, so he deserved a chance to get some much-needed sleep.

Speaking of sleep, Byleth’s thoughts drifted to the strange dreams he’d had over the last few weeks. Only two of them seemed to be “Complete”, so-to-speak. The one he’d had during his night at Garreg Mach, and the other he’d had after fainting at Fort Curan. But, whenever he’d slept since then he’d felt similar… echos, of sorts. Small fragments that seemed to be part of the same whole as the others.

Like most dreams, he couldn’t remember exactly what was in those fragments, the two complete dreams being the exceptions, but he could recall much of the same. Blue figures, black figures with Crests emblazoned onto them, and green figures that were sometimes humanoid, sometimes draconic.

Something about it all screamed familiarity. Like he had all the puzzle pieces, but no idea how to assemble them.

“Alright everyone!” Byleth’s introspection was broken by Leonie’s announcement, “Sun’s going down, so it's time to go!”

Putting his thoughts aside, Byleth went off to join the rest of the group for their departure.

He’d have plenty of time to dwell on his dreams during the trip.

“I think I can see Garreg Mach from over here,” Ashe informed the rest of the cart, peering out from the back. Byleth ended up in the same cart with him, Hilda, Mercedes, Ignatz, and Marianne. Sure enough, looking in Ashe’s direction one could see the small but distinct outline of the monastery in the distance, past seemingly endless mountains.

Hilda snapped her fingers, “Hey, you know what? Since Remire isn’t too far from there, why don’t we pay Cyril a visit?”

Ashe and Mercedes glanced at each other, confused.

“Oh, you weren’t here,” Ignatz explained, “The Professor found Cyril living in the ruins of Garreg Mach.”

“He was the first person I met after I woke up,” Byleth confirmed, “If it wasn’t for him, I might’ve never even been able to find all of you.”

“What about the rest of the Knights?” Ashe asked, concerned, “I know the Agarthans said they were destroyed, but if Cyril is still around, does that mean…?”

Byleth shook his head sadly, dashing Ashe’s hopes without a word.

“Oh…” He muttered, Mercedes putting a comforting hand on his shoulder.

“If it's anything,” Byleth said slowly, “Cyril didn’t explicitly tell me of any casualties, at least among the staff. Catherine and Hanneman were captured, Alois and Shamir went missing… Flayn and Seteth, Gilbert, Manuela… They all left on their own accord.”

“Wait, Annie’s father?” Mercedes inquired, “Did Cyril say where he went?”

Byleth shook his head, “He said he went to help Resistance in Faerghus. I was hoping he might have reached you and the rest of the Lions but…”

Mercedes averted her gaze sadly. Gilbert’s chances of survival were grim to say the least.

“Well, there’s always hope,” Ashe remarked, “Maybe they’re all still out there somewhere, fighting just like we are?”

“That’s the spirit,” Hilda spoke up, “We can’t just give up. Even if they’re gone, it's up to us to make sure their sacrifices weren’t in vain.”

There was a brief pause.

“That’s… rather mature for you, Hilda,” Ashe commented.

“That would be because she stole it from one of Claude’s speeches,” Ignatz revealed.

Laughter rippled through the cart.

“Still, poor Cyril,” Mercedes remarked, her smile fading as her maternal side showed through, “All alone for all this time… Please tell me he’s at least eating well.”

“Cyril’s fine,” Byleth reassured her, “He’s got a large amount of supplies stored up.”

“I’m sorry I’m just… worried for him. He’s so young and…” Mercedes trailed off, looking solemn, “Why didn’t he come with you?”

She’d turned to face Byleth with that last question, her expression being a mix between pleading and… guilt?

“He wanted to stay,” Byleth answered.

“But why-”

“Relax Mercedes,” Hilda chimed in, “It’s _Cyril._ You know how stubborn he is. If he doesn’t want to go he isn’t gonna move. Besides, he wouldn't be a kid anymore at this point. And I’m guessing he’s not short of work to do either.”

Byleth shrugged. Hilda wasn’t wrong. Not only had Cyril grown up, but he’d kept himself busy working on repairing all the damage the Monastery had sustained over the years. That being said, he had left out the part about Rhea’s… current state, when he’d told the Deer about Cyril.

“Well,” Marianne finally spoke up, Byleth having thought she might’ve been sleeping, though then again she never had been one for conversation, “I think that visiting the Monastery would be… nice.”

“I suppose it would be nice to go back to the monastery,” Ignatz agreed, “I could paint the view, and then we’d always have something to remember it by.

“Yeah!” Hilda looked happy that her idea had taken root, “I’ll ask Claude about it when we get to Remire.”

Byleth smiled. He’d wanted to visit Cyril for a while now, still having felt slightly guilty about the boy staying behind. But…

Perhaps it could be more than just a temporary stop. 

The first thing Byleth noticed when the caravan finally pulled into Remire was that, even around six years later, it still smelt of ash.

Visually, the village was still little more than a burnt down husk of it's former self, the time passed doing little to help that state. Even some of the buildings that were still standing after the massacre had since fallen and decayed into dust, either due to monsters, bandits, or just the elements wearing away at what was left. There were a few more fresh-looking ruins, frames that never had houses built around them, or plots that’d been cleared for new buildings. Presumably the products of the Church’s promise to help rebuild, long forgotten after the Agarthans invaded.

Regardless, the group went to work unpacking the supplies. 

“Agh…” Lorenz complained as he and Mercedes set down a crate, “I think I may have pulled something…”

“If you need a break,” Mercedes suggested, “I think I can handle the rest.”

“No no, I’m fine,” Lorenz replied, though his expression and the sweat going down his forehead betrayed his lie, “I just… Need a moment-”

He was interrupted by the sight of Raphael walking past them, a crate almost identical to the ones he and Mercedes had just set down on each shoulder.

“Oh hey, I got done with my supplies early,” Raphael greeted them in his usual enthusiastic manner, “So I thought I’d give you guys a hand!”

Mercedes thanked him as Lorenz let out a breath he’d clearly been keeping in.

Byleth watched the whole interaction with a small smile. Always good to see the students getting along again, especially if it meant the two groups were trusting each other.

“Hey Teach,” Byleth turned around to see Claude, a sense of worry emanating from under his carefree facade, “You seen Dimitri anywhere?”

“No,” Byleth answered, now understanding the concern, “Have you asked Dedue?”

Claude sighed, “Yeah. Said his Highness wanted to be alone, but he didn’t know where he went.”

Byleth held his chin, “Should we send a search party?”

“I don’t wanna cause a panic...” Claude seemed to be mentally weighing his options, “Alright. I’ll go look for him, but if either I come back without him or not at all, get one together. You can hold down the fort for me, right?”

A single raised eyebrow answered that question. 

“I’m joking,” Claude said with a small smile, “We both know you’re probably even more qualified then I am.”

“Fire an arrow in the air if you get into any trouble.” Byleth instructed him, knowing the crimson aura from Failnaught’s shots would be clear in the morning mist.

“Got it.” Claude noted.

Byleth vaguely heard Claude muttering to himself about how Dimitri couldn’t have gotten far as he walked away.

“Where is he…?” Claude muttered under his breath.

He kept glancing around, keeping his eyes peeled to see anything out of the ordinary among the ruins. Still no sign of Dimitri, just more blackened, burnt buildings.

Part of him almost expected to see a ghost pop out of one of them.

He’d been looking for Dimitri for around 15 minutes, and his worry was beginning to rise like the sun overhead. Claude expected to find him closeby, maybe muttering to himself about revenge, or talking to his “Ghosts”, but there was still neither hair nor hide of him.

Claude didn’t even want to think of what exactly his fellow Lord could be doing at the moment. 

Making his way under a torched gateway, presumably the last remains of a destroyed tavern or blacksmith, Claude was about to consider heading back to assemble that search party Byleth had mentioned when he finally heard something. The sound of someone saying something, quietly.

“...Why…?”

If the wind had been even the slightest bit stronger, it would’ve drowned the noise out.

It was Dimitri’s voice all right, and it sounded like it was coming from the nearby riverbank.

Claude approached the area quietly, overhearing quiet whispers but none of the actual conversation. He saw Dimitri’s distinctive fur coat, and sure enough, the Prince was alone. He was standing right at the very edge of the small river, his boots in the mud but not the water. The river itself seemed to reflect the state of the village itself. From what he remembered, it used to be small and insignificant, but it was still active in both current and life. Now the stream was almost dead, blackened by cinders, and almost still.

_Hold on._ The gold-clad Reigan looked closer. Dimitri was holding something.

His eyes widened as he identified the item. A gold and blue dagger, still in a black sheath.

However, after his fears of the worst passed, Claude realized that Dimitri was holding the weapon strangely. Not by the hilt, but by the sheath. And his posture didn’t suggest that he was considering using it. Rather, it looked like he was about to drop it into the river before him. His hand was shaking, yet Dimitri’s grip was like iron.

Why couldn’t he shake the feeling that he’d seen that dagger before?

“...Why?” Dimitri muttered, a mix of anger and frustration in his voice that made it loud enough for Claude to hear, “Why can’t I be rid of this damned token? Am I really so weak...?”

Claude managed to pick up a sense of sadness in his words as well.

Dimitri held the dagger out towards the river, almost like he was offering the water to take it from him. But despite how much his hand shook, his grip didn’t release the weapon.

Hold on.

Claude _had_ seen that dagger before, but not on Dimitri. 

The person he’d seen with that dagger, all those years ago in this same village, was _Edelgard_.

He could vaguely recall Sylvain telling a story of how Dimitri had once gotten a girl a dagger as a gift. The Gautier had told him it in the dining hall one slow evening, still amazed at Dimitri’s line of thought at the time. Claude had laughed it off at the time.

Suddenly, everything made sense.

Claude backed up, then strode forward, putting on a fake smile while making sure to step on a small twig.

Dimitri, overhearing the sound, turned towards the intruder wearily. Seeing Claude, he semi-discreetly tucked the dagger to his side.

“What is it Claude?” Dimitri’s voice had gone back to it's usual mix of annoyance and resignment.

“You know,” Claude kept up a lively disposition, “You should really tell someone when you’re going to wander off like this. I was about to mobilize the troops.”

Dimitri remained quiet and walked towards and quickly past Claude, towards the rest of the group

“Say,” Claude remarked, hoping to get some kind of reaction out of the Prince, “You remember when we first met Teach around here?”

“That was a lifetime ago Claude.” Dimitri didn’t even look at him.

Claude stopped for a moment, his fake smile faltering and a sigh escaping his lips.

“Yeah, I know…”

After a long day of work, most of the supplies had been unpacked and the area around the caravan cleared. They’d converted some of the more intact ruins into living quarters, draping cloth over them to replace the long-gone roofs. To reward their hard work, Claude decided to let everyone rest early. They’d have all the time in the world to unpack tomorrow.

Currently, all but Dimitri, Claude, and Byleth were busy eating dinner inside one of said makeshift buildings. Claude and Byleth were talking outside, while Dimitri had gone off to his own devices, though Claude made sure that a few soldiers would both keep an eye on the Prince and inform him if he left the area.

“Interesting…” Byleth remarked, Claude having just finished recalling what he’d seen Dimitri doing, the dagger he’d seen him holding, and the connection Claude had made about it.

“Yeah,” Claude shrugged, “You remember how we all first met here?”

“Like yesterday...” Byleth replied, remembering that fateful evening fondly. The first time he’d seen Sothis in full, the first time he’d meet the house leaders, and the first time he’d even heard of Garreg Mach, not knowing how important it’d become to him in the future.

“Ah, how simple it was back then,” Claude seemed to feel the same, “When my plotting was more focused on avoiding detention instead of avoiding Agarthan patrols.” He broke out a small grin, “Honestly, I still consider the former more of a challenge.”

Claude chuckled to himself, while Byleth smiled.

“Still,” Claude admitted, his own smile fading, “Hard to recall all those good moments here when the last time we were around it was filled with innocent people ripping each other apart…”

Byleth had to agree. He’d actually been trying to block the memories of that day, not wanting it to taint the nostalgia.

“...You know what’s always bothered me about Solon’s whole experiment?” Claude’s expression was serious, “It was how damn _pointless_ it was. It wasn’t part of their war against the Church, it wasn’t part of their experiments with Crests… Hell, if anything it actually hurt them because Solon had to blow his cover to do it… So many lives destroyed, and for what?”

Byleth felt the same. Causing the massacre was already monstrous, but doing so for no reason, causing all those families to kill each other for _no reason…_ That was simply unforgivable.

“But,” Claude continued, “I guess it does have one use. It's another reminder of why we have to keep fighting.”

Behind them, Byleth saw Dedue exit the building, two helpings of food in hand. He nodded to Claude, and the two waited for a few moments. Their moment was here.

“You ready?” The Professor asked him, now that Dedue was out of earshot.

“As much as I can be,” Claude sighed, “Alright, time to roll the dice.”

The two of them entered the building, Byleth staying near the entrance to keep guard. They’d dragged an miraculously unharmed tavern table in here, with more than enough room for everyone to sit down at. Claude also meant to use it as their next meeting room, and to a degree and unbeknownst to those inside, that’s what it was right now.

“Alright everyone, I’ve got a major announcement,” Claude announced, the whole room turning to face him. Sylvain, Ingrid, and Leonie had been discussing something, Felix as a silent observer. Bernadetta was reading a book nearby. Raphael seemed to have just finished his second plate, with Ignatz barely done with his first. Annette, Mercedes, Hilda, and Marianne also looked to have been in the middle of a conversation, while Lorenz, Ash, and Lysithea had simply been eating.

Annette began to get up, heading towards the entrance “I’ll go get-”

Byleth gestured for her to sit back down, crossing his arms as he stood in front of the entrance, both keeping anyone from getting Dimitri and Dedue’s attention, and it didn’t pique their attention either.

Annette sat back down, perplexed, her expression mirrored by her teammates.

Claude took a deep breath, “I’d like to lead this off by saying that I know that, for some of you, I never exactly came off as someone trustworthy. And I never exactly helped that perception. In fact, I outright encouraged it. A lot. Though, to be fair to myself, I never exactly put a lot of trust in others back then either.”

He smiled, seemingly thinking back to his days of calling himself “Shiftiness Incarnate”, “But, things have changed, and so have all of us. So, I’ll just lay this all bare.”

“We’ve managed to locate the rest of the Black Eagles, and me and the Professor plan to meet with them tomorrow.”

Almost everyone at the table, with one sole exception, immediately turned towards Bernadetta. The shy archer immediately went red, mortified at the attention. She slowly began to silently descend under the table, away from view. Felix, one of the few not staring at the space where Berenadetta used to be, let out a resigned sigh before grabbing the book she’d been reading and holding it over where his traveling companion had been sitting. A hand reached out, taking the book back with it, followed by a small “Thank you.”

Byleth noticed that Claude was visibly holding back a small chuckle.

“So,” Sylvain began as everyone’s attention turned back to Claude, “When you say ‘the rest’, does that also include… well…”

“Yes.” Claude answered, the whole table exchanging a mix of concerned, conflicted, and even bitter looks, “My only request is that you keep this to yourselves and away from… him.”

“That explains why you waited for the Boar’s lapdog to make his leave,” Felix remarked, his fellow Blue Lions glaring at him for the insult, Ashe and Mercedes looking particularly angry, “No doubt he would’ve immediately scampered back to his master with this information.”

Felix didn’t seem to care about his classmate’s frustrations. Byleth didn’t take kindly to it either, but he had a point about Dedue’s loyalty. Felix had managed to hit the exact same line of thought he and Claude had.

“Well, you’re not _wrong._” Claude admitted, though his tone of voice indicated he felt the same as his teacher, “Look, I know it might seem hypocritical to have this whole speech about trust when the end point of it is to convince you to not trust someone you’ve known both longer and more personally with this. In fact, I’m pretty sure it even qualifies as an exact definition.”

His expression softened, “But I promise- No, I _swear_ on my life I’m not trying to be some kind of puppet master here. The last thing I will _ever_ do is treat one of my friends as a weapon, and I’m not starting now. But he's sick, and I know this has a good chance of making it worse, possibly irreversibly. And that’s a risk I’m not willing to even consider taking.”

Claude’s expression hardened, “I know I could’ve just kept this all a secret, just disappear for awhile tomorrow and come back before anyone realized. But I know two things. That trust has to be earned, and we’ve all seen exactly where the path of keeping everyone in the dark for your own benefit goes. I’m trusting all of you, and I can only hope that you do the same.”

Claude closed his eyes and let out a sigh, “And if you don’t… Well, I know I won’t be able to change that.”

The whole room was silent.

“Claude,” Ingrid was the first to talk, “We’ve never agreed with each other. I’ve always thought of you as far too carefree and shiftless, and you’ve made it clear that you consider me cold and condemnatory. I can’t remember a single conversation we’ve had with each other where we didn’t end up bickering with each other.”

She looked up at him, “Yet for once, I find myself agreeing with you. I’ll take no pleasure in withholding this from his highness, but you’ve made it clear that you won’t either. So I’ll trust you, for as long as you do the same.”

Sylvain was next, cracking a smile, “Well, you got Ingrid to agree with you, and that only happens once in a blue moon. Must be a sign. Count me in.”

Felix didn’t even change his expression, “You already know my answer.”

“It won’t sit well with me,” Ashe admitted, “But neither will the alternative.”

“As long as it spares Dimitri anymore pain.” Mercedes spoke up.

Annette was the last one to speak, “Well, everyone else already said everything. But if it's anything, I trust you.”

Claude turned towards Hilda, “And you guys?”

Hilda giggled, “Oh Claude, if we didn’t trust you we wouldn’t be all the way out here!”

The rest of the Deer all looked at him hopefully, clearly sharing the statement.

Claude smiled brightly, letting out a bemused but sincere chuckle. Byleth could tell the smile was a real one, not one of his many fakes.

“Thank you, all of you,” Claude sounded like a great weight had been removed from his shoulders, “I mean it.”

Lysithea stood up, her expression determined, “If you’re going to meet with them, I want to come with you.”

Claude seemed slightly confused at the request, but it didn’t wipe the smile off his face, “Why?”

“I have my own reasons,” She responded, “Now, what is your answer?”

Claude analyzed her for a second. Byleth had never seen her so serious, not even in combat.

“I don’t think I could stop you even if I said no,” Claude replied, a mix of both respect and bemusement, “Departure is at the break of dawn. Don’t be late, we might just leave you behind.”

“That went well,” Claude remarked to Byleth. Everyone else had gone off to sleep, leaving the two of them alone at Claude’s tent. Claude seemed pretty intent on resting himself, but he wanted to have one last chat with his teacher before he did.

“You made a good speech,” Byleth responded.

“I guess I did.” Claude sounded relieved, “Now then, tomorrow we get some real answers.”

“Hopefully.”

“You think we’ll be able to get something out of her too?”

Byleth sat there for a moment, silent.

The Flame Emperor had a lot to answer for, and Edelgard had a lot to explain.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the wait. Got myself a bad habit of procrastination.
> 
> To explain Dimitri's dagger, I imagine he found it during his investigation of the Flame Emperor, just in Verdant Wind Byleth wasn't around to see it.
> 
> So, next up: Byleth, Claude, Lysithea, and Bernadetta reunite with the Black Eagles.
> 
> Also, noticed someone gave me a shout-out on reddit. Not gonna disclose their name here, but thanks!


	17. Clipped Wings

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Byleth sees what's become of the Black Eagles.

Vestra Hidden Estate

To Caspar, it looked like today was gonna be more of the same.

Dorothea was in her room, either trying to come up with a new song to try and cheer them up or practicing one of her old ones. Judging by the relative quiet, it looked like it was the latter. Petra was off hunting whatever she could find to help their diminishing food supplies, Ferdinand was in the study, either polishing his armor or writing poetry, and Hubert was caring for Edelgard, same as always.

Just more of the same status quo they’d fallen into.

He’d lost track of how long they’d all been there. When Hubert initially approached him to stay at the estate, he’d only agreed out of necessity. After all, he enjoyed a good brawl against a few thugs, but dealing with the bounty the Agarthans had sent after him was too much. The last group of bounty hunters almost got him, so hiding out seemed like a good idea, especially if he could meet up with his old friends in the process. But their refuge had quickly turned into a prison, none of them able to leave for even a supply run as the Agarthans ramped up their effort to find them. Even his own father, and all the troops under him, had been giving orders to capture him on sight. For “Interrogation”.

From how Hubert described the Agarthan’s usual tricks, that actually meant extreme torture, followed by execution. Or worse.

So there they were, stuck with a supply of heavily salted preserved food, in the middle of nowhere. Fugitives from their own homeland, and unable to do anything about it

He _hated_ it.

But, since there was no singular person around the blame and or beat for all this, all Caspar could do was take his frustrations out by splitting yet another log down the middle with his axe with a small grunt.

Caspar sighed, putting the two halves on the side. He’d put them with the rest in his ever expanding pile. At this point, it was getting close to the second floor. It was hard to tell if he’d been doing it for that long, or if he was just really efficient at chopping firewood. Probably both.

He wiped a bit of sweat from his brow, taking a long look at the small clearing that served as the only way in or out of the area. He’d lost track of how long he’d been waiting for Bernadetta to come back with someone, _anyone_. Each time he so much as glanced at that clearing, he both imagined and half-expected Bernie to be there, a whole army in tow.

He wouldn’t even mind if she came back alone. At least then they’d know she’s safe.

“You do know that glancing over there after each log isn’t going to make anyone show up, right?” Linhardt observed. He’d been sitting nearby on a tree stump, the result of an incident Hubert had made him swear on his life not to repeat, reading a small book on crests from the library that he’d probably gone through about a dozen or so times by this point.

Caspar opened his mouth to respond, but stopped before any words came out. 

Coming from the clearing, though the source wasn’t visible, was the sound of people talking. It was quiet, but getting louder. Whoever it was, they were slowly getting closer.

Lindhart nearly dropped his book.

“Ha!” Caspar turned back to his studious best friend, his surprise quickly turning into a massive grin and determined expression, “Told you so!”

The light-blue haired brawler turned to head towards the clearing, his excitement building. Finally, after all this time, _someone_. He absently wondered who Bernie had managed to get. Probably Claude, like they’d planned, but maybe she managed to get in touch with someone else. Maybe Seteth, if he was still around. Or-

His advance was stopped by a small burst of Linhardt’s wind magic. Not exactly the razor-sharp, high speed winds it was supposed to conjure up, but rather a small but strong breeze. It was something Caspar was quite familiar with, seeing as Linhardt had developed it during their exile specifically to reprimand him from doing something he shouldn’t. Or at least, what Linhardt and the others thought he shouldn’t be doing.

“First of all, no, you didn’t,” Linhardt remarked plainly. Caspar turned towards him, annoyed, “Secondly, _think_ for a moment. What if it's an enemy?”

“Even better!” Caspar replied impatiently, “It’s been ages since I’ve had a good fight!”

He turned to continue his march towards the clearing, only to be stopped by yet another surge of wind magic.

Linhardt sighed, “You’re impossible.”

Caspar stomped one foot on the ground in frustration, “Come on Linhardt, we’ve been stuck here for way too long!”

“Let me put this in a way you may understand…” The Crest scholar stroked his own forehead, clearly thinking of a way to convince his companion, “I can see I won’t be able to stop you, but could you at the very least not go alone?”

“Well come on then!” Caspar resumed his stride yet again, “I never said you couldn’t come with me!”

Another resigned sigh from Linhardt was followed by yet another discouraging cast of wind magic.

“What?” The brawler was getting impatient.

“Don’t you think the others would be just as, er, excited about this as you are?” Linhardt countered, which actually got Caspar to stop without another reprimanding wind spell, “If you recall, some of them have been here longer than the both of us have.”

Caspar had to admit he had a point. If he was in their shoes, and they’d just ran off to face the new arrivals without him, he’d be pretty mad. It was only fair.

“Alright, alright,” Caspar admitted, crossing his arms, “I can see your point.”

He got an excited glint in his eyes, “Ok, I'll get Petra, you go get Ferdinand and Dorothea!”

Caspar turned and immediately tried to head off into the woods, though not so subtly in the vague direction of the clearing. Another burst of wind magic put a stop to that, though this time Linhardt actually got off his seat to do so. The green-haired noble took a small stretch as Caspar turned towards him to see what the issue was now.

“Nice try, but no.” Linhardt reprimanded Caspar as he pouted in annoyance, his plan foiled, “_I’ll_ get Petra, and _you’ll_ go to the house to fetch Ferdinand and Dorothea.”

“Fine,” Caspar rolled his eyes, “Just promise not to go ahead without me.”

Despite the seeming end of the conversation, neither of them moved.

“Uh, Linhardt?” Caspar asked, confused, “You going or…?”

“I’m waiting for you to go towards the house,” Linhardt replied, a single eyebrow raised in suspicion, “Please, for all our sakes, just be _slightly_ cautious this time?”

After a moment, Caspar sighed, accepting defeat, “Alright, fine,” He actually began to walk towards the estate this time, “I’m serious about not going ahead though.”

“I wouldn’t dream of it,” Linhardt replied.

Caspar continued his walk, his pace quickening as he went. Eventually, he broke into a run.

After all this time, they could finally fight back.

The path to Black Eagle’s hideout was an odd thing. To the unaware, it was practically undetectable. Just another stretch of woods made up entirely of gnarled roots and thick trees. Something that’d be ignored.

But, if one knew that there was a path there, it was actually quite easy to find. The way was simply hidden in plain sight.

That being said, Byleth was curious as to how House Vestra managed to build an estate like this without anyone knowing the location. Surely there would be workers and such who would...

On second thought, perhaps he was better off not knowing.

The group of four, Byleth, Claude, Lysithea, and Bernadetta, had set out early in the morning. They were on foot, Claude having left his wyvern back at camp. The official explanation for their absence was that they were meeting with a representative from another resistance group, which wasn’t a complete lie. They’d just left out who exactly they were meeting with.

Currently, the actual “Path” they were on could only be called such due to the lack of roots growing through it. Either a lack of use or very careful treading meant that grass was free to spread, though for whatever reason the roots seemed to deliberately stop themselves intruding on it. Perhaps magic was the source, or maybe some kind of poison that only affected the trees themselves. Either way, it didn’t seem to affect the health of the forest itself. The trees formed an almost complete canopy over them, only small holes allowing little streams of early sunlight to come through.

No visibility by air, little chance of travelers stumbling onto it, and the density of the wood even prevented monsters from nesting. A perfect place to hide away from the world.

“Are we there yet?” Lysithea asked, slightly winded from all the walking. Back at the monastery, she’d never done well with long on-foot marches, and that hadn’t changed. Of course, now Byleth knew the reason was far more sinister than just low stamina.

“Almost,” Bernadetta replied, though she sounded a little uncertain, “I think.”

Claude put his arms behind his head, “I gotta give Hubert some credit. I’m pretty sure not even the Church would’ve known there was a whole estate all the way out here.” He sighed, “Shame that you can’t really get a big group through here though.”

Byleth was about to make a comment of his own when the whole group heard the distinct sound of twigs snapping, from both behind and in front of them. 

In a flash, everyone went for their weapons. Byleth’s hand instinctively grabbed the hilt of his sword, while Lysithea’s hand was already aglow with magical power. Berndetta fumbled with her bow, but Claude was ready in seconds, Failnaught in hand, an arrow already nocked and the bow itself glowing bright red.

Byleth scanned the area for the source, locating the distinct shape of an axe looming out from behind one of the nearby trees. He could see someone taking glances at them from behind it, though they were fast enough that he couldn’t make out the exact face. Their skin didn’t seem to be an Agarthan pale though, which was somewhat reassuring.

“What’s the password?” Asked an exaggeratedly gruff voice. The speaker seemed to be the axe-wielder, and though they were making an effort to try to disguise it, Byleth still recognized the voice of one of his former students.

Caspar.

Byleth’s grip on the Sword of the Creator loosened.

“It’s, uh…” Bernadetta put her own bow away hastily, before nervously holding out one hand. It began to glow dimly with the distinct light of magic, though Bernadetta had to keep lightly snapping her fingers to keep it from fading, as if she was trying to light a fire with flint. Slowly, a symbol began to appear above her palm, flickering in and out of existence. Eventually, the image became more and more visible. Byleth realized it was a Crest, specifically Bernadetta’s own Crest of Indech.

He could vaguely recall Edelgard performing a similar trick to conjure an image of her own Crest of Seiros, back when he first arrived at the Monastery. Bernadetta must’ve learned it from her.

The purple-haired archer raised her hand shakily, allowing the figures hiding behind the trees to examine the conjured symbol. Despite the fact that they were likely her fellow classmates, she still closed her eyes somewhat fearfully, only opening a single one after a few moments.

There was some murmuring behind the trees.

“Asking for a password but needing a symbol...” Claude mused to himself as he lowered his weapon, the glow of the relic fading as he put it away, “Clever.”

Slowly, a head of short, light blue hair emerged from behind one of the trees, axe in hand. It was Caspar all right, though he’d since grown out his hair and gained a decent amount of height. He was wearing a battred suit of armor, covered in small cracks, scratches, and dents, along with an equally tattered overcoat. In one hand, he had a handaxe, while in the other, a bladed gauntlet. And on his face was a huge smile.

“Bernadetta!” He shouted, clearly happy to see his classmate again. He reached out for a hug, but Bernadetta recoiled away, slightly terrified. She calmed down slightly, gesturing towards the weapons in his hands. 

“Oh, right,” Caspar remarked, carelessly tossing the handaxe behind him, “It’s great seeing you again!” He turned towards the trees he’d been hiding behind, “Come on guys!”

Byleth looked behind him, seeing three other figures coming out from the brush.

The first was Ferdinand, garbed in an armored nobleman’s outfit. Though the metal armor seemed to be polished to the point of almost reflecting the woods around them, the actual cloth was almost as tattered as Caspar’s overcoat, with a multitude of small patches and rough stitches covering the otherwise sophisticated patterns. His hair seemed to have grown incredibly long and unkept, especially compared to how composed it was back at the academy.

The second, Dorothea, was clad in a wine-red ballroom gown, adorned in dulled gemstones. Her outfit didn’t have the same level of wear and tear as Ferdinand and Caspar’s, though it still had a fair amount of small tears at the edges. She’d also grown out her hair slightly, though it paled in comparison to Ferdinand’s.

Last was Linhardt, who was wearing a dark green suit, with a large book attached to his waist. His outfit was by far the least torn, but even it still had a few noticeable rips in a few places. Like the others, his hair also seemed to be grown out. Byleth absently wondered if none of them had had a haircut since they’d moved to Hubert’s estate.

They were glaring at his group with either extreme suspension or mild concern. After a moment, he realized that all three of them were specifically glaring at _him_.

“Hey, what’s wrong?” Caspar asked, just as confused as Byleth was, “Guys, Bernadetta’s back! She got Claude, Lysithea, even the Professor-” Caspar’s eyes widened as the reason for the other’s reaction finally seemed to hit him, “Wait.”

He quickly turned to face Byleth in a fighting stance, standing between him and Bernadetta despite the latter’s quiet protests.

“Claude. Lysithea.” Ferdinand said, giving a respectful nod towards the two of them, “It’s good to see you again. But...” He pointed his killer lance at Byleth threateningly, “Who is _this?_”

“Don’t tell me you guys forgot about Teach?” Claude remarked, his eyes narrowing. Byleth noticed that he was beginning to discreetly pull another arrow from his quiver. 

“As nice as it is to see his face, the Professor died five years ago,” Ferdinand replied, though Byleth saw his grip on his lance loosen ever so slightly, “Even though we never found a body.”

“Well, he’s back now!” Berndetta chimed in, worried about the hostilities, “Can’t you guys believe _me_ at least?”

“I wanna believe you Bern, I really do...” Dorothea admitted softly, “But, we need _proof_. Just so we can know for sure that he’s not just another imposter like Monica.”

Byleth felt a brief surge of anger at the mention of his father’s killer, which faded as his expression softened. He had to admit, they had a point. From their point of view, Professor Byleth had been dead for years. After everything that happened with Tomas and Monica, he’d be suspicious too. Even Bernadetta and Claude’s words could only do so much without irrefutable proof that it really was him.

Luckily, he had exactly that. An ability no one else in Fódlan possessed.

Claude seemed to have reached the same conclusion, relaxing and withdrawing his hands from his quiver, “Well then. Teach, I’m guessing you’ve got the same idea I do?”

Byleth nodded, holding a hand out to signal that he meant no harm. Slowly, he drew the Sword of the Creator from its sheath, the blade reacting to its owner’s touch by glowing bright orange. He held the blade out in front of him, giving the Black Eagles a clear view to examine the relic. After a few moments, he shifted the weapon into its whip form, the scourge falling limply onto the grass. 

“Is this enough?” He asked with a small smirk, retracting the whip and turning the relic back into sword form.

Ferdinand and Dorothea both looked to Linhardt, who was staring at the Sword of the Creator with rapt attention. He held a hand to his chin, clearly in deep thought.

“It _is_ reacting to the proper Crest…” The Crest Scholar mused to himself, his attention entirely focused on the relic, “And the lack of Crest stone… Interesting.”

He nodded towards his classmates, “It really is him.”

The other Black Eagles all turned their attention back to Byleth, dumbfounded. 

“I can’t…” Ferdinand said under his breath as he put away his lance, “The Professor, alive… I-I didn’t think...”

“Yeah,” Claude said, rolling his eyes, “That’s the usual reaction.”

The four of them finally seemed to relax, lowering their weapons and fully emerging from their hiding spots in the trees to come onto the same cleared path.

“You have to admit, it sounds like some kind of fairy tale,” Dorothea commented, before suddenly gaining an inspired look in her eyes, “A teacher coming back from the dead to help his students in their time of need…” Byleth could practically see her coming up with the script as she spoke “I should write this down…”

For whatever reason, Byleth noticed Linhardt looking up towards the branches of the trees around them.

“Ah, almost forgot,” He recalled, to Byleth’s slight confusion, “Petra, you can come down now.”

Byleth had just enough time to realize that he hadn’t seen the Brigid Princess with the other Eagles before Petra suddenly dropped down from one of the trees around them, a bow in her hand and a curved sword on her back, hitting the ground with both feet and her right hand. Her loose hair and long cape initially made Byleth think of a large, purple and brown bird swooping down at them. 

Byleth recoiled back from the huntress’ unexpected appearance. Bernadetta and Lysithea both nearly jumped back in surprise, letting out a yelp before recovering, Lysithea doing so much quicker than Bernadetta.

“Hey Petra.” Claude remarked, completely unperturbed. He gave her a small wave.

“Hello Claude,” Petra greeted him as she dusted herself off, “It is great to see you again.” She turned towards Byleth, “And Professor, I am not understanding how you are here, but I am glad you are.”

“Petra!” Bernadetta cried out, slightly in shock but still happy to see her friend, “Could you, um, please give a little warning before you do that?”

“I am sorry, Bernie.” She apologized, “But I am glad to see you safe again too. Did my advice give you help on your travels?” 

Bernadetta rubbed the back of her head, “Well, I managed to get a few small things, but I’m not some kind of master huntress like you are,” She admitted, “I mean, without Felix I probably would’ve starved…”

“Wait, Felix?” The mention of the Blue Lion’s swordsman seemed to pique Dorothea’s interest.

“It’s a long story…” Bernadetta muttered.

“But you did not starve,” Petra noted, “That is what is important, that you are safe and in good health.” 

“We’ve all been worried sick,“ Ferdinand chimed in, “It's a relief to see that you’re alright.”

Byleth noticed that, though the Eagles were all crowding around Bernadetta, they were making an effort not to surround or enclose her, clearly trying to avoid making her uncomfortable.

“So…” Bernadetta mumbled, “D-Did I do a good job?”

Dorothea raised her arms, wordlessly offering the purple-haired recluse a hug, which she accepted.

“You did great Bern,” The songstress told her, “You did great.”

“Yeah!” Caspar added as Dorothea released Bernadetta, “You gotta tell us everything that happened, like where you went, what you did, how Felix factors into all this…”

“You must’ve went on quite the journey,” Ferdinand stated with a warm smile, “We’re all very proud of you.”

“T-thanks…” A few tears appeared in Bernadetta’s eyes. Happy ones, judging the small smile on her lips. She took a moment to wipe them away before she continued, “But I never want to do that again.”

“Oh?” Linhardt commented, bemused, “I would’ve figured you would’ve enjoyed all that time alone.”

“Oh no, it was terrible,” Bernadetta recalled, her voice shifting back to a slightly anxious and annoyed tone, “I got chased by wolves, I went days without fresh food, Felix almost stabbed me a few times…”

“You must explain how Felix became involved.” Petra asked curiously.

While the Black Eagles continued their reunion with Bernadetta, asking her about her travels and how proud they were of her for succeeding in their plan, Claude, Byleth, and Lysithea stood back. Byleth had to admit that, despite their commotion about his return, he felt a little forgotten. Still, it was nice to see the Eagles again, especially with how happy they were for their classmate.

“This is nice and all, but…” Lysithea confided quietly to the two of them, unsure, “Do we have time for this?” 

Claude shrugged, “Eh,” He crossed his arms with a small smile, “Day’s still young. Let them have this.”

After the Eagles finished their reunion with Bernadetta, they all agreed that the least they could do for ambushing Byleth and company was lead them directly to the estate. Though, they did want one thing from Byleth as they did so...

“...Leonie guided me back to camp and I reunited with everyone else.”

Byleth finished the story of his return, one that he admittedly was getting a bit tired of telling every time he met with some of his old students. How he felt like he was falling into the abyss when the Holy Tomb collapsed. How he’d awoken in a river downstream of Garreg Mach. How he met with Cyril and found out he had been asleep for five years. And finally ending with how he reunited with the Golden Deer.

“Sleeping for five whole years…” Linhardt, of course, seemed interested in the prospect, “I’m jealous.”

“Of course _you’d_ say that,” Dorothea remarked, “Still, nice to know Cyril’s doing alright.”

Byleth felt a pang of guilt over not mentioning Cyril when he told the story to the Blue Lions. Mentioning him _was_ the least he could do, especially after everything he did to help him. At least he didn’t make the mistake again.

As they walked, Byleth began to get his first glimpse of the hidden Vestra estate the Black Eagles had been hiding at. It was roughly two stories tall, made mostly of dark, almost black oak and shadowy gray stone. In terms of size, calling it an estate seemed generous. In both appearance and proportions it was closer to a tavern or a particularly large cabin. The roof was almost merged with the canopy of the trees around it, the leaves and branches shielding the entire building from aerial view.

The most notable feature was a large circular window, right above the door. It stood out like a large, peering eye over the landscape before it. He felt like it was watching him and the rest of the group as they walked.

A memory of what Bernadetta had told him, about Edelgard doing nothing but “Staring out of that window” floated through his mind.

“Hmm,” Ferdinand held out his hand in front of the group to stop them from going forward, “Just to be on the cautious side, I feel one of us should inform Hubert of our new arrivals.”

“That’s a good idea,” Linhardt admitted, “It would be a shame for you all to come so far only for Hubert to disintegrate you without so much as a greeting.”

“Just wait here,” Ferdinand asked them, “I’m sure I can convince him to… _permit_ your presence, at the very least.”

“He’s been really overprotective of… well, you know,” Bernadetta explained to the Golden Deer among them as Ferdinand went on ahead of them, “He doesn’t let anyone even see her without his permission or her request.” 

Claude shrugged, “Honestly? Doesn’t sound like he's changed too much.”

He leaned against a nearby tree, both arms behind his head, “I honestly don’t know how Edelgard was able to put up with it. I mean, if Hilda or Lorenz were like that back at the academy, I would’ve gone insane within a month.”

Meanwhile, Caspar was squinting at Lysithea suspiciously.

“Alright,” He remarked, scratching his chin, “So, we know that we’ve got the real Professor, Claude, and Bernadetta… But how do we know this is the real Lysithea?”

Lysithea shot him an unamused death glare, summoning a small ball of miasma in her hand.

“Alright alright,” He backed off quickly, “I’m just messing with you.”

She dropped the spell, but not the disapproving glare.

“So, uh, Lysithea, I’ve been wondering…” Bernadetta questioned cautiously, “Why did you want to come with us so much?”

Lysithea’s expression turned solemn, “I need answers. From Edelgard.”

An uncomfortable silence hung over the whole group.

Claude was visibly concerned, his mouth slightly ajar, “Lysithea…” He stopped leaning against the tree and straightened himself out, “You don’t mean-”

“You can all come forward now!” Ferdinand announced, unintentionally cutting Claude off. He was standing in front of the estate’s open door. It took Byleth a moment to realize that Hubert was slightly behind him, his dark outfit blending in with the shadows.

As the group began to walk towards the house, Lysithea gave Claude a small, almost remorseful nod.

“Hello Professor,” Hubert’s first words to him were surprisingly welcoming. Byleth expected Edelgard’s retainer to regard him with suspicion and disdain, perhaps even giving a few thinly veiled threats. But no, nothing of the sort. In fact, he sounded almost… grateful?

“Claude. Lysithea.” He greeted the two Golden Deer in the exact tone that Byleth had expected.

The inside of the House Vestra hideaway was sparsely decorated, the living room only having a handful of old seats as furniture. It wasn’t well lit either, the only light coming from sparse candles, enclosed in glass lanterns so their flames wouldn’t spread onto the walls. There were a few other rooms branching off from the one they were in, what looked to be a small library, a kitchen, and a study, along with a staircase leading to the second floor. Byleth wasn’t sure if the decor was intentionally antique, or if the estate had simply been built that long ago.

“Welcome to our ‘Home Away From Home’.” Caspar introduced, spreading out his arms before dropping into a very ragged-looking seat.

“Not that we have much of a choice,” Linhardt added, sitting down in his own chair, which was notably less damaged then Caspar’s. Though, at the same time, it looked rather well-used. Byleth guessed that it wasn’t uncommon for the chronic sleeper to take a nap sitting in it, “For better or worse.”

The rest of the Black Eagles, with the exception of Hubert, each took one of the remaining seats. It appeared that they each had their own respective seats, again with the exception of Hubert. There were six altogether, Bernadetta’s seat having seemingly been left out despite her previous absence.

Incidentally, this also meant there wasn’t anywhere for Byleth and company to sit.

“Oh, apologies,” Petra seemed to have realized the issue, “I could go get more seating from the study if you would be needing it.”

“Nah, we’re good,” Claude replied, waving off the offer, “So, correct me if I’m mistaken, but I believe you guys wanted to discuss something with me?”

Byleth noticed Hubert discreetly duck up the stairs, vanishing into the second floor.

“You’re correct,” Ferdinand answered, “Now that we know that you’ve been fighting the Agarthan’s, and _successfully_ at that-”

“We want to join you!” Caspar cut off the ginger-haired spearman impatiently. Ferdinand had a moment to give him a baffled glance before he continued, his words a bit more calm, “I mean, that’s why you’re here right? To get us?”

“Blunt as ever, Caspar,” Linhardt commented with a visible eye roll.

“Well…” Claude rubbed the back of his head worriedly. Byleth already knew the problem, “Yes, but there’s… issues.”

“What is your meaning?” Petra asked.

Claude averted his gaze sadly, “Bernadetta told you guys about how we’ve already managed to get the Blue Lions into the fold, right?”

“Yes?” Dorothea answered, cautious about where this was going.

Byleth exchanged a nervous glance with Bernadetta.

Claude was silent for a moment before continuing “Do you remember what Dimitri was like, back during that night at the Holy Tomb? When he found out who the Flame Emperor really was?”

An uncomfortable silence ran through the room. Byleth could still picture Dimitri’s expressions and actions from that night. The vows of vengeance, the wild lance strikes that got more and more animalistic as the fight went on, that horrible, deranged laughter…

“We do,” Linhardt finally answered, “It’s why we told Bernadetta to try and find you instead of him.”

“He’s only gotten worse you know.”

Claude was quiet for a moment before continuing, “I mean, I thought he was in a bad state back then, but now? It's like that hatred he has for Edelgard is the only thing left, and even then it's not much.” He shook his head sadly, “He’s like some kind of revenant now, driven only by the idea that somehow his dead family actually wants him to throw his life away. And worse, he’s got no problem with brutalizing anyone who gets in his way, friend or foe.”

“I was hoping the poor guy could’ve gotten some help…” Dorothea mentioned, her own gaze looking sadly at the ground.

“Look, I want you guys to join up with us, I really do,” Claude continued, “But if I just randomly show up with all of you, his response is a risk I’m not willing to take. For your safety and his.”

“But we have to do something!” Caspar yelled out, startling Bernadetta and attracting the gaze of everyone in the room. He calmed himself just slightly before continuing, “Claude, I get the concern, but none of us want to just sit here and hide anymore! Those guys who attacked Garreg Mach and Fort Merceus and Arianrhod and who knows what else have gotten away with it for too long! Now’s our time to hit them back!”

“As… _enthusiastic_ as Caspar put it,” Ferdinand added slowly, a little taken aback by his friend’s outburst, “He does speak for all of us. They’ve taken everything from us Claude, from our homes,” He looked towards Petra and Dorothea, “To our families,” He turned towards Linhardt and Caspar, “So please,” He turned back to Claude, “Give us a chance to fight back.”

Claude chuckled, “Well, I’ve got a few plans thought up,” He turned his attention towards the stairs, leading Byleth to realize that Hubert had come back down at some point, evading his notice, “But, there is something I need from our favorite shadowy tactician.”

Hubert was standing with one hand across his chest and one behind his back, “Lady Edelgard requests your presence,” He informed them curtly, “The three of you.”

Lysithea and Claude exchanged a brief glance. The younger mage’s look was determined, but at the same time solemn, like she was about to do something that was both necessary and painful.

“We’re in this fight together,” Byleth told them as he, Lysithea, and Claude followed Hubert upstairs, “All of us.”

The upper floor seemed to be entirely reserved for bedrooms, being a long hallway with several rooms on both sides. It half-reminded Byleth of the dorms at Garreg Mach. Hubert guided them to a single, plain door. Judging by the layout, the room would be the one housing the large window they’d seen from outside, confirming Byleth’s suspicions. 

“Claude.” Hubert stopped them from going in, standing in front of the door, He took out a small, black covered book from behind his back, “This contains everything I know and learned about the Agarthan forces, their leadership, and their organization. You would do well to put it to good use.”

Claude took the book, taking a glance at the featureless front, “Didn’t even have to ask…” He remarked, astonished, “Hubert… You’re better than I gave you credit for. Thank you.”

Hubert silently turned his attention to Byleth, “Professor, I’m not sure how you’ve returned or why,” He remarked bluntly, “But…” His tone turned almost sincere, “Five years ago, you saved her majesty when I was unable to, so for that, you have my gratitude.”

It took Byleth a moment to realize that he was talking about how he’d gone back for Edelgard that fateful night.

Without another word, Hubert opened the door.

Edelgard’s room was fairly plain looking. There was a small dresser, a simple bed, and a bookshelf. The most exotic thing there was a battleaxe resting against one of the walls, clearly having been collecting dust for a long time. And in the center of it, Edelgard herself, silhouetted by the same window Byleth had gotten the feeling of being watched from as they came in.

Her outfit vaguely reminded Byleth of her uniform back at the academy, if only in shape. A simple faded red noble’s tunic, with a small cloak, a shade of red so dark it was almost brown, covering her shoulders. The cloak possessed a design of a two-headed eagle, the symbol of the Adrestian Empire, though it lacked the Crest of Seiros that was usually behind it. Her hair style hadn’t changed, though it was now long and unkempt. She looked pale, her violet eyes dull and tired. 

She stared at the three of them, expressionless.

Edelgard’s current state brought one word to mind.

Defeated.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So yeah, as Edelgard isn't the Emperor, she won't be wearing her normal post-timeskip outfit or hairstyle. Aymr was also never created in this timeline for the same reasons.
> 
> Also, this and Byleth and co's meeting with Edelgard was ORIGINALLY going to be in the same chapter, but this one grew so much I decided to split them in two. This isn't the first time I've changed something mid-write. Instead of going to Remire in the last chapter, the resistance was originally supposed to clear out a random forest of giant wolves to use as a new base. I decided against it because 1. Remire carried a decent bit more weight to it, and 2. The whole fight was kinda unnecessary.
> 
> Anyways, thanks for reading. Hopefully I can get the next few chapters out a bit sooner.


	18. Cinders of an Emperor

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Byleth, Claude, and Lysithea confront Edelgard.

Vestra Hidden Estate

“Professor… How are you still alive?”

The first thing Edelgard said wasn’t exactly a surprise. After all, he’d been asked that question many times over the last month or so. That was to be expected, especially when he himself didn’t have an answer. 

But Edelgard’s sounded ever so slightly different from the others. He couldn’t pick up exactly what it was, but it was like she was somehow in more disbelief than all his other former students. Perhaps it was that she’d never used that tone of voice at the Monastery, or maybe the mixed emotions from seeing the face behind the Flame Emperor were clouding his observations. 

“You know as much as I do,” He answered truthfully. Well, he _ did _ have an inkling that it had something to do with his connection to Sothis, but even then, the specifics were beyond his grasp at this point.

“Professor, I…” Edelgard turned her gaze towards the floor, “I saw you die… Buried under countless rubble.” She shook her head, “I don’t understand.”

After a few moments of silence, she finally seemed to recognize the presence of the two Golden Deer standing besides Byleth, “Hello, Claude.” She greeted him, not betraying any emotions while doing so.

Claude returned the greeting with a silent bob of his head.

However, when her gaze met Lysithea, a sudden, ashamed expression disrupted her previous forlorn one, if only for a moment, “And… Lysithea.”

Lysithea’s only response was an icy glare, though Byleth could sense something else underneath it. Pity? Disgust? Determination?

It was hard to tell, but what was certain was that Lysithea seemed to be actively trying to keep that ice from melting.

“It’s been a while,” Claude said, crossing his arms, “I would say it's nice to see you again, but last time I saw you, you _ were _ trying to kill us.”

“If you’ve come for an apology…” Edelgard trailed off.

“Nah. I mean, we both know it wouldn’t exactly be sincere, and besides, I’m not really interested in one anyways.” Claude said plainly, “But I _ do _want an explanation.”

Edelgard took a slow, deep breath, “I… I suppose you deserve that much,” She admitted, “Where would you like me to begin?”

“How about why you were running around in a mask and armor, attacking the Church?” Claude suggested dryly, though his tone was more bitter than sarcastic, “Or why you were raiding the Holy Tomb for Crest Stones? Or why you stood back and watched while your Agarthan buddies committed atrocities with the help of _ your _ forces?”

Edelgard grimaced at Claude’s mention of the Agarthans being her friends. 

“_ They _ were _ never _anything more than a means to an end.” She responded, her disgust clear in every word.

_ Had I known they planned to do this, I would have stopped it. You have my word. _

That’s what the Flame Emperor had told Byleth, right after the Remire Massacre and his class’ first clash with Solon. At the time, he thought it was simply a facade, a futile attempt to try and sway him to their side.

Perhaps Edelgard was being honest after all.

Out of the corner of his eye, Lysithea silently clenched one of her hands into a fist, but soon relaxed her grip.

“And what was that end?” Byleth asked. 

Edelgard remained silent for a few moments. She still kept her gaze towards the floor, like she couldn’t bring it to meet her former teacher.

“To destroy the Church and the corrupt shackles they’d forced on Fódlan.” She finally answered. By this point, the difference in her voice became clear. At the academy, Edelgard always kept herself composed and dignified, as expected of her position as the next Emperor of Adrestia. It was hard trying to recall a situation where she ever dropped that persona, even for a few moments.

Now she just sounded _ tired _.

“We know your vendetta was against the Church,” Claude remarked, his interest piqued, “But what we don’t is _ why _.”

“You saw what Rhea really was.” Edelgard answered plainly.

“Yeah, The Immaculate One...” Claude’s thoughts were clearly going back to that night at the Holy Tomb, when the Archbishop vanished, turning into something he’d only heard of in the Church’s lore, “Wasn’t much of a surprise that Rhea was hiding something. Still, the massive dragon part _ did _ come as a bit of a shock.”

“You think that was all?” Edelgard responded. Byleth could make out an echo of the familiar annoyed tone she’d used in response to Claude’s antics back at the academy in her words, “Rhea and her fellow ‘Children of the Goddess’... They created the Crest system, the nobility, the Church...” She recalled, her gaze still aimed towards the floor, “Everything responsible for this brutal, irrational world...” She turned her gaze towards Claude, “The only one I’ve ever known.” 

A mix of emotions seemed to go through Claude’s eyes, but his expression didn’t so much as budge.

“They let Fódlan stagnate and rot for a millenia, dividing it with the Church to weaken the people… All so she could maintain her control of humanity.” Edelgard continued, her expression somber, “That left me with two objectives. To unite the land under one banner, and to eliminate Rhea and her Church. To do both, I needed… _ their _ assistance.”

The room fell quiet again, the quiet words of the rest of the Black Eagles talking downstairs the only audible sounds. Byleth noticed Lysithea silently bite her lip for a moment. Eventually, a small, mirthless chuckle from Claude broke the silence.

“You know what?” He remarked bitterly, “I _ agree _ with you. Fódlan _ was _ rotting, and the Church certainly wasn’t making the situation any better.” He cast a sympathetic glance towards Lysithea, “The Crest system, the nobility, the Churches… I may not have experienced them for as long as you have, but I’ve seen enough to know how corrupt they’ve become.” His expression softened, “Change _ was _ needed…” Anger flashed across his face, “But attacking the Church? Working with monsters like the Agarthans and the Death Knight? That just…” He began to calm down, sighing in frustration “Our ideals weren’t too far off from each other. Even Dimitri...” He noted, his tone solemn, “If you needed help bad enough to work with them, why didn’t you ever try to work with any of _ us _ ?”

“You know as well as I do that Fódlan needed to be unified under _ one _ banner,” Edelgard retorted. Claude crossed his arms, but didn’t make any indication that he necessarily _ disagreed _ with the motion, “Dimitri and the Kingdom were too set in the Church’s old ways to make the change Fódlan needed, and the Alliance’s lords were too focused on their own preservation and power to even consider it.” Claude shrugged at her opinion of the Alliance’s leadership, silently admitting her point, “As for you…” Her glance was focused entirely on Claude, “Even if our visions were similar, they are _ not _ the same. And you yourself just admitted that you lack knowledge of this land’s history. I could not trust you to carry out the change Fódlan needed.”

“Look, I’m not naive, I understand that sometimes the only way change is gonna happen is if you fight for it.” Claude admitted, “But you didn’t even _ try _ anything else. Not even a token attempt at diplomacy. You just immediately tried to go to war with the whole continent.” He shot her another angry glare, “Do you even realize how many lives such a war would cost?”

“A price I’d come to terms with a long time ago.” Edelgard replied wistfully.

“Yeah, but how many of them were yours to give?”

Edelgard didn’t respond, falling silent once again.

“It doesn’t matter now anyways…” She mused quietly.

“Yes it does!” Claude snapped, his anger coming to front, “I know you haven’t been able to see it from here,” He gestured towards the domineering window behind her, “But things are even _ worse _ now! Whole villages go missing overnight and the only thing people find of them are charred corpses! People who commited the ‘crime’ of being born with a Crest are hunted down like animals and experimented on in ways I don’t even want to imagine!” Lysithea’s expression softened for a moment, “The Agarthans aren’t interested in just letting Fódlan rot, they’re going to bleed it until there’s _ nothing _ left! You-”

“I know.” Edelgard interrupted him. Claude stopped for a moment before sighing frustratedly, letting Edelgard speak her piece “I… I was referring to my dream. My dream for a better future. One without the mistakes of the past, where worthiness would be determined by abilities and actions, not blood. A free, unified Fódlan, ruled by _ humanity _instead of monsters manipulating them from the shadows.”

“I sacrificed everything for that future, my tears, my joy, my morals, every single bond I’ve made…” She briefly stared at Byleth. He could see the pain and resignation in her eyes as she continued, “Even when I knew in all likelihood that I wouldn’t live to see it flourish, I didn’t lose heart.” Byleth noticed Lysithea’s eyes go wide for a moment before shutting as she let out a small, resigned sigh, “But now, that future… It will never be.” She held up her shaking palm, staring at it before dropping her arm to her side. “Everything I did, was all for naught.”

“Edelgard…” Lysithea said softly, before raising her voice to make her next words very clear, “We’re the same, aren’t we?”

It was like everything went quiet, from the conversations downstairs, to the rustling of leaves outside. It was only for a few seconds, but it felt much, much longer.

Lysithea didn’t elaborate on what she meant, but, considering her reactions to what Edelgard was saying, along with her own past, the subject was clear.

Byleth mentally noted Edelgard’s hair color, almost kicking himself for never realizing the connection. Dimitri had once commented, during the whole affair with the Ashen Wolves, that her hair hadn’t always been the dull white Byleth knew. Perhaps he should’ve taken Edelgard’s immediate uncomfortability with the subject at the time more seriously. 

The realization also answered a few of his own questions. Why Edelgard despised the Crest system, why Lysithea was so determined to see her when the opportunity arose…

Why Edelgard knew about the Agarthans in the first place. 

“Lysithea…” Claude uttered concernedly, taking it upon himself to break the uncomfortable silence. Judging by his tone and his words from right before they’d entered the building, he’d figured out the connection before Byleth had.

Lysithea didn’t respond, instead keeping her gaze focused solely on Edelgard, waiting on her response.

Edelgard closed her eyes, as if she couldn’t bring herself to meet Lysithea’s gaze as she responded.

“Yes.”

It was small, pitiful. Like she was almost ashamed of herself for answering.

Lysithea looked as if she’d been stabbed in the back.

“_ How could you?! _ ” Betrayal filled her voice. Byleth had never seen such an outburst out of the younger mage before, and judging by Claude’s shocked reaction he hadn’t either, “After everything they’ve done! To you, to me, to our families!_” _

Edelgard opened her eyes, but kept her gaze to the floor and her expression solemn, “How long have you known?” She asked quietly.

“I… I-” Lysithea’s hair began to almost stand on end, wisps of magic forming at the ends of her shaking hands. Before anything else could happen, Claude placed a comforting hand on her shoulder. She turned her gaze to him, Claude shaking his head gently.

It seemed to be enough to calm her down, the magic at her fingertips fading along with most of her visible anger.

“It was after I returned to House Oredelia,” She confessed somberly, “After the Holy Tomb… I had my suspicions, so I looked into the recent history of the House Hresvelg.”

Just the statement alone seemed to cause Edelgard to flinch.

Lysithea shook her head, “Emperor Ionious IX had eleven children, and several of them ahead of you in line for the throne. Then one day, they all just seemed to suddenly disappear. You were the only one left… Just like me.” She closed her eyes for a moment, and Byleth was sure that some part of her, for just a few seconds, relieved whatever horrors the Agarthans had inflicted on her and the other children of House Oredelia.

“They _ murdered _ your siblings and you…” Lysithea’s tone turned accusatory, “You decided to _ help _ them?”

“They… I told you, they were a means to an end-” Edelgard repeated, though _ who _ it was directed towards, Lysithea or herself, was unclear.

Regardless, Lysithea merely grimaced and interrupted her.

“I don’t care what you thought of them as,” She retorted angrily, “But I do care about what _ your _ support allowed those monsters to do!”

“Kidnapping Flayn, turning some of our fellow students into demonic beasts, Remire,” Lysithea listed, each one reminding everyone in the conversation of the various atrocities the Agarthans had committed during their time at Garreg Mach, “Murdering Captain Jeralt…” Lysithea shot Byleth a sympathetic glance as his own vision turned downwards. Even now, just the mention of his father’s death… hurt. “Stop pretending you had no role to play in any of it!”

“I did what I could to limit their monstrosities,” Edelgard responded, “And as soon as I unified Fódlan and removed the Church, I would’ve spent every waking moment working towards their destruction.”

The former Imperial Princess looked at Lysithea pleadingly, “Lysithea I… I needed their strength to unify Fódlan. To make a world where the nobles and Crests that victimized people like you and I could no longer exist. Where-”

“But you didn’t.” Lysithea shot back, her voice more tranquil but just as furious as before, “You didn’t create that world. All you did was give them the perfect opportunity to seize all that power for themselves. And now? Now?” Her voice almost cracked on the last statement as small tears formed in her eyes, “How many do you think are like _ us _ now? Or worse?”

Edelgard didn’t answer.

Lysithea wiped away the tears with her sleeve before they could fall, “Just tell me one more thing.” She asked calmly, “How much time do you have left?”

Edelgard managed to bring her eyes to meet Lysithea as she answered, “At this point, a few years, maybe a decade.” She told the three of them, “Two if I’m extremely fortunate.”

Claude and Byleth exchanged a mutual glance, one filled with uncertainty and concern.

Lysithea simply turned towards the door, putting her hand on the doorknob, “Then you’re at least more fortunate than I am.” Her grip on the handle tightened, though she didn’t open it, “But I won’t spend what I have left doing _ nothing _ while those monsters are still out there.”

“Lysithea…” Edelgard muttered quietly. If Lysithea heard it, she didn’t react to it at all.

“I thought you’d understand.” 

Lysithea’s hand retreated from the door as she turned to face Edelgard once again. Her expression was somewhere between frustration and pity, “I understand enough.”

“I understand your reasons, I understand your pain,” A brief look of pity went across her face with that statement, “But I will _ never _understand your actions.”

“Goodbye, Edelgard.”

And with that, she simply opened the door and walked away, leaving the two former house leaders and their professor as the only ones in the room. Byleth could faintly see Hubert shadowing the door before it closed once again.

As the trio of them stood there, wordlessly contemplating Lysithea’s words and the conversation up to this point, Byleth felt a sense of bitter irony. The three of them standing here, like some kind of twisted parody of their fight that night at the Holy Tomb. 

Claude once again took it upon himself to break the silence, “Well…” He rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly, “That certainly explains a lot.”

Edelgard merely sighed, her expression returning to the dour one she wore when they’d first seen her, “I can’t blame her for that reaction.”

The statement seemed to be directed more towards herself then either of them.

“The Agarthans were your tools, weren’t they?” Byleth asked calmly, “You were using them for your own goals, just like they were trying to use you to achieve theirs.”

“The Church was too powerful, too ingrained, to be beaten without their forces, ” Edelgard responded, “Especially with…” She trailed off, not finishing the sentence, shaking her head as if to be rid of the thought before continuing, “Even then, it would’ve been an uphill battle.”

“So your plan was to use them to get rid of the Church, then get rid of them when you didn't need them anymore.” Claude observed, “Only problem is, you never realized they could do the same.”

The former Emperor didn’t say anything in response at first, seemingly lost in thought.

“The statement applied to _ both _of us,” She finally began to recall, “They stood no chance against the Church without the Empire, while the Empire needed their assistance to make a proper stand against the Church. But there were no illusions between us that I saw them as anything more than yet another necessary evil, and they made no attempt to hide their own contempt and cruelty.”

“But then, the raid on the Holy Tomb…” Edelgard’s tone turned mournful. She didn’t elaborate further on the events. She didn’t need to, all three of them had what took place permanently etched into their minds, “They used the momentum they gained from that night to commandeer the Imperial army I’d been preparing for war, usurp the Throne I’d only just managed to finally claim, and destroy any chance I had to reclaim either.”

“So you gave up?” Byleth asked.

“I’ve walked my path to its end.” Edelgard replied simply, her words carrying an underlying tone of bitterness, “I just never imagined it would end here.”

“You know, I want to say that it isn’t too late.” Claude confessed, “That even after everything you can still walk with us…” He seemed regretful as he admitted the truth, “But I can’t. Dimitri wants nothing more than to rip your head off, and with what you’ve done, there’s probably a good portion of our forces who wouldn’t stop him.”

The mention of Dimitri’s name seemed to provoke something in Edelgard. Byleth could see her mouth open slightly and her eyes widen for just a moment, before returning to her previous sullen state.

“So, you’ve managed to unite with him.”

“Yeah, the rest of the Blue Lions too.” Claude confirmed, “I’ll admit, it's kind of nice to see that all of us ended up sticking together all these years later. I just wish it was under better circumstances.”

Relief seemed to cross Edelgard’s face, for reasons only known to her.

“You know, this whole meeting just doesn’t seem complete without him.” Claude reflected. Byleth was inclined to agree, “So, I think I’ll ask in his place.”

“Did you have anything to do with the Tragedy of Duscur?”

The question actually seemed to catch Edelgard off-guard for a second, “What?” The realization seemed to finally hit her, “N-no, I was still a child, recovering from... Why would I…?” Her surprise seemed genuine. 

Claude didn’t seem surprised, “Yeah, that’s what I expected.” He’d discussed the topic with Byleth before, about how Edelgard’s involvement just didn’t add up. The two of them had agreed that Dimitri’s assumption about the Flame Emperor, and by extension Edelgard’s, involvement just didn’t seem right. The facts just didn't add up. “Not that that’ll matter too much to him anyways…” He added sadly under his breath.

“I… I do know the identity of the true perpetrators.”

Now it was their turn to be surprised.

“The Agarthans, they were the true hands behind the incident,” She confessed, “Their leader, Thales, took the guise of Lord Arundel in order to organize the assassination, and the subsequent massacre. All so they could implant one of their own even deeper in the Kingdom’s court.”

“Thales…” Byleth knew that name. The same one Solon mentioned with his dying breath before the Sword of the Creator silenced him forever. 

The same one who stopped him from saving his father from Kronya’s dagger.

There was a bitter irony to it. Him, Edelgard, Dimitri… They’d all lost their family to the machinations of the same man. The same monster…

Claude shot him a look of concern before turning back to Edelgard, “So… I’m willing to guess that agent is Duchess Cornelia?”

Edelgard nodded, “Yes.”

“Damn.” The news didn’t seem to be a surprise, though the confirmation definitely wasn’t pleasing, “So their control of the Kingdom and the Empire is even more direct than we thought…”

“Dimitri…” Edelgard muttered. Her thoughts were clearly going to the Prince, but in what regard, Byleth couldn’t tell.

“Claude,” She stopped her reflection, and for just a moment Byleth could see the steely determination that defined her during her academy years resurface, “Take the rest of the Black Eagles with you, back to your forces. Even Hubert, though I doubt he’ll comply even if I order him too. And please, put an end to this nightmare Fódlan has become.”

Claude seemed to briefly consider making some kind of comment towards the statement, ultimately he just gave her a simple nod. 

“Got it.” Claude said quietly as he turned towards the door, beginning to leave just as Lysithea had. Though instead of her tranquil hostility, he was leaving the conversation determined and ready.

“Until we meet again, Prin- Edelgard,” He caught himself mid sentence. After all, Edelgard wasn’t an Imperial Princess anymore, nor was she Emperor, “I mean, hopefully we will, someday.”

Claude took one last glance at the deposed Emperor before leaving, once again revealing Hubert’s form as the door opened. Byleth also gave a last nod before going to join him.

“Professor, I…” Edelgard began, though for once she actually sounded uncertain. Still, the words stopped Byleth before he could reach the door. “There... There are things I need to discuss with you. Alone.”

“You can tell Claude and the others later if you wish…” She confessed, and Byleth swore her cheeks slightly darkened as she did so, “But, for now I… I just want this conversation to be between us.”

Byleth could hear two quiet sets of footsteps slowly go from the door to down the hallway. 

“First,” She held up her hand as she talked, like she was about to present something in her palm, “Like Lysithea, I too was… _ given _ a second Crest.” 

A light-red glow appeared in her hands, almost identical in appearance to the small conjuring trick she’d used to show him her Crest of Seiros when he’d arrived at the Monastery. But, to his slight surprise, instead of the Crest that formerly marked her as the next successor to the Adrestian Empire, the Crest that appeared this time was the same as his. The Crest of Flames.

“It is the same as yours… The Crest of Flames. When it manifested for me, I swore a silent oath. For the sake of my family and for all the poor souls whose lives were traded for my existence…” She remembered sadly, “That, for their sake, I would build a world where such meaningless sacrifice could never be sanctioned again.”

She looked at him, saying her next words with a combination of pleading and command, “But, now, I can’t fulfill that oath. So please, as it’s only other bearer… I request that you do so in my place.”

Byleth had to admit that, at this point, it was a lot to take in. Even putting aside the revelations about Edelgard’s motivations and the true nature of the Tragedy of Duscur aside, the fact that Edelgard had _ his _ Crest raised more questions than answers. Most of all, how the Agarthans managed to give her a Crest connected to Sothis herself, but also how deep their connection truly went. He even absently wondered if she ever picked up a few wisps of Sothis’ existence, at least before she gave the rest of her power to Byleth and vanished.

He put those thoughts aside. He’d have to cross that bridge another day.

All he could do was respond with a simple nod of the head. He said nothing, but the small action made his agreement clear.

Edelgard breathed a sigh of relief, “Secondly,” She began, though once again Byleth could pick up hints of uncertainty in her voice, “I… I have a question to ask.”

“Why did you save me?”

The question initially didn’t properly register to Byleth’s mind. His only response was a slight raise of one of his eyebrows.

“We’d been fighting each other to the death mere moments before, the very last order of the Archbishop herself was for my execution,” She recounted, “You could’ve easily escaped with everyone else, and yet… You went back for me. The last action you took was giving me the chance to escape at the cost of your own. Even after everything...”

She looked at him, waiting desperately for an answer, “Why?”

The answer was simple.

“I don’t know.”

Edelgard adopted a rare expression of shock.

Byleth shook his head, remembering his silent decision at the time, “Maybe I thought that there was still a chance. That everything be resolved without any more tragedy... And maybe there still is.”

He left the room without another word, leaving Edelgard alone.  
  


“No.”

Claude sighed. Hubert’s response wasn’t exactly a surprise. Even if he listened in to their conversation with Edelgard, which to be honest he _ definitely _was, her request didn’t seem to affect his answer at all.

Truth be told there was a part of him deep down that wanted Hubert to stay here. He initially thought that he and Byleth would have to try and scheme their way into having him or Edelgard spill every piece of intel they had on their experience with the Agarthans, but the handy little notebook Hubert had given them made that irrelevant. He’d skimmed through it briefly, and from what he saw the info was legitimate. And now that he had it, that meant a part of him didn’t want to trust someone who rivaled _ him _ in shiftiness back at the academy.

Though, considering how much of that shiftiness he knowingly played up, he had to wonder if Hubert had done the same. Especially considering recent actions…

It was almost a relief when the Professor finally stepped out of Edelgard’s room and into the hallway with the two of them. He’d definitely have to ask what they talked about later. Doing so right now would be… inopportune. And frankly a little rude.

“I suppose you’ll be taking the others with you when you leave?” Hubert asked the both of them curtly. 

“Looks like it.” Byleth responded simply.

“Good. They’ve been waiting for an opportunity like this for quite a long time.”

“There is one thing I don’t quite get though.” Claude confessed, “No offense, but you never really struck me as the kind of person who’d go out of his way to help anyone out of the goodness of your heart. Other than Edelgard of course.”

Hubert himself seemed somewhat amused by the statement, letting out a small, evilish chuckle, “So, you’re wondering why I offered the others sanctuary?”

Well, at least he asked first. Claude’s curiosity had been biting at him ever since he got here, and now seemed like it might be the last time to get a proper answer.

“Just a little.” He admitted, “I know they were your classmates and everything, but it just seems a little… Out of character, you know?”

The small smirk on Hubert’s face stayed for a few moments before slowly fading, his expression leaning more towards solemness, “Her Majesty needed to recover after her imprisonment in Enbarr. And there are some aspects of that recovery that I simply could not perform alone.”

Ah, there it was. Inviting them all here was all some kind of effort to help her emotionally after whatever she went through after she was locked up. Hubert never did seem like the best emotional support.

That being said, he did sense that wasn’t the entire reasoning behind it. There probably was some desire to help out his friends after everything that happened. But he didn’t feel the need to press the issue any further.

“You’re content to stay here for the rest of your days?” Byleth asked. 

“When I was ten years old I made a promise. And five years ago I _ broke _ it.” Hubert responded, in his usual calm yet threatening way, “I will not allow that to happen again. Not while I still live.”

“So, your loyalty was to her even back then…” Claude commented.

Hubert scowled, though his anger didn’t seem to be directed towards either of them, “Then, I was simply too young to make a difference.” He continued, a quiet fury rapidly building in his voice as he spoke, “But on the day of Her Majesty’s raid, her suffering came because of _ my _ mistake. Her lifelong ambitions were ruined because _ I _ was _ sloppy. _”

Claude took a glance at Byleth, noticing his teacher seemed to be ruminating on something. As for what, he could take an educated guess it had to do with Hubert’s role in the event that resulted in his five year disappearance. Edelgard’s vassal had been mysteriously missing in action that day…

“How?” Byleth inquired.

Hubert sighed before answering, seemingly to let out some of the anger that had been building inside him, “I was supposed to be waiting in the wings to help Lady Edelgard escape the Monastary should the need arise. Instead, I was ambushed by a group of Agarthan assassins while I was performing the preparations necessary for Her Majesty’s ascension to the throne. I was eventually able to dispose of them, but by then…” For the first time Claude could recall, Hubert actually sounded regretful, “It was too late.”

The statement all but confirmed Claude’s theory that the Agarthans also had a hand in tipping off the Blue Lions and the rest of the Black Eagles to the attack on the Tomb. Just so they could get everyone together...

If it wasn’t for Byleth’s actions, they almost certainly would’ve managed to dispose of all the loose ends at the academy right then and there.

“What happened in the past shouldn’t affect either of you now.” Hubert remarked, shaking his head, “You two have your orders from Lady Edelgard. You would do well to fulfill them.”

Judging by the conversation Claude and Byleth had walked in on when they finally went back downstairs, the Eagles had spent most of their time being filled in on recent events by Bernadetta, with the assistance of Lysithea once she had left their conversation with Edelgard. While Bernadetta recalled how they’d recently made camp within the ruins of Remire Village to the rest of her former classmates, Byleth spotted Ferdinand preparing a pot of coffee in the back of the room. He’d seen Bernadetta grab a bag of coffee beans from their supplies before they left, though he was confused that _ Ferdinand _ was the one making it. Byleth had never seen him show anything other than distaste for the drink back at the monastery. 

As soon as the two of them did arrive however, the topic shifted to discussing how the Eagles could join with their resistance group without arousing Dimitri’s suspicions. 

Of course, at this point they were rather strapped for time to create such plans, which wasn’t making doing so any easier.

“Ok, if the whole issue is that we _ might _ know where Edelgard is, why don’t we just come with you and tell Dimitri she’s dead?” Caspar suggested.

“See, I thought of that before,” Claude admitted, “Problem is, right now he’s unstable enough that he might just take that as failing the ghosts in his head. And if he thinks that, there’s a chance he might... Well…”

Claude shook his head.

“It’s not exactly a good option at the moment.”

“Are you sure there aren’t any resistance groups in the area that might be willing to shelter us?” Ferdinand asked, walking over and sitting down in his empty chair, leaving the smoking coffee pot behind.

“Well, there is the imaginary one that I made up to justify coming here,” Claude responded jokingly, “But I don’t think they’d be very accommodating.”

“I’ll… Take that as a ‘No’ then.”

Byleth held his hand to his chin. They needed somewhere the Eagles could stay safely for at least a few days, but not public enough that they could be recognized and reported. It also had to not be apparent that they had set it up for them in the first place, so Dimitri wouldn’t become suspicious. They couldn’t just set up a camp anywhere for a few days, as the risk of an errant patrol finding them in that time was quite high. Especially in Imperial territory, which seemed to have the highest Agarthan pressense. They needed somewhere secure, but also that they could find and get to easily.

He was sure he had an answer _ somewhere _, but he was having a hard time finding it. Where could-

“What about Garreg Mach?” Bernadetta suggested meekly.

The whole room seemed to stop and stare at her for the statement.

“I-I mean,” Bernadetta sputtered, flustered by the attention, “I-it’s pretty well fortified, and it wouldn’t be that strange to find you guys there. A-and, Professor,” She stared at him, trying to redirect the attention onto him, “Didn’t you say Cyril has a lot of supplies stored up? I’m pretty sure I heard Mercedes saying she wanted to visit him soon too.”

“I second Bernie’s proposal,” Petra quickly added, a small gleam in her eyes, “Garreg Mach would be a few days worth of travel from here, right?”

A few of the other Eagles looked towards Byleth for confirmation of Bernadetta’s claim, “Cyril _ did _ seem to have enough supplies to sustain all of you, and I don’t think he would mind visitors.”

“That might just work…” Claude thought aloud, “I mean, it wouldn’t exactly be suspicious if a bunch of former students tried to hide out at their ruined school. And, we are due for a visit up there soon…”

He snapped his fingers, “Bernadetta, I think you’ve got the right idea.”

“R-really?” Bernadetta blushed slightly at her suggestion being accepted.

“Yeah,” Claude confirmed, “Only issue would be that you yourself would have to come back with us to camp. Can’t just have you suddenly disappear and then magically show up at the Monastery.”

“We should probably give you all some kind of sign,” Lysithea added, “So Cyril has some proof of who sent you. Like a note, or a trinket of ours.”

“What about this?” Byleth took out the blue-sheathed dagger that usually hung on his belt, holding it up. Loaning it to the Eagles for a few days wouldn’t bother him, especially since he kept a smaller knife hidden elsewhere on his person just in case. It was a trick he’d learned after an encounter with a particularly violent pickpocket a few years before his arrival at the Monastery.

“That’ll work,” Claude remarked, “So, any objections?”

“I can only pray that some of the library is still intact,” Lindhardt replied tiredly, “Hopefully some of my bookmarks are still in place.”

Dorothea took a deep breath, “I’m ready,” She said, though Byleth felt at least some of the statement was more self-reassurance than a confirmation for them, “Better to try something new than to sit here doing nothing at all.”

“Yeah!” Caspar added enthusiastically, “I think that makes all of us, except for you Ferdinand.” He looked towards his ginger-haired classmate expectantly.

“I am ready as well,” Ferdinand admitted, with a hint of sadness, “But I can only ask that you give us all a chance to say our goodbyes.”

It took a moment for Byleth to realize Ferdinand was referring to Edelgard and Hubert. After all, this may be the last time any of them would see their former leader, or the man who gave them shelter when their old lives began to fall apart.

It was only fair that they should have a chance to at least say goodbye. 

“We do need to get going soon…” Claude mused, “But, take the time you need. And while you’re up there, pack your things. We’re not exactly in the position to go back if you leave anything behind.”

The Black Eagles, Bernadetta included, nodded before they began to make their way upstairs.

Byleth could only vaguely hear the murmurs of what was exchanged between the Black Eagles upstairs as he wrote down an explanation for Cyril on a sheet of parchment. It was Lysithea’s suggestion, and she kept chiming in with recommendations for how to make the words as legible as possible. It was both of their hopes that Cyril’s literacy had improved over the last few years, especially with the Knights as his teachers. But, just in case, the two of them were trying to make sure the Almyran boy could recognize the contents of the letter, or at least Byleth’s handwriting.

Claude also seemed to take the time to write down a small note of his own, discreetly swiping a spare sheet while Lysithea was instructing her Professor on how to write an “A” that Cyril would definitely recognize. Byleth didn’t bother asking about its potential contents. If it was important, then Claude would definitely clue him in later anyways.

Shortly after Byleth signed his name, the three of them heard the distinct sound of footsteps marching down a flight of wooden stairs. One by one, the Black Eagles filed back into the room. Each of them carried a bag of some kind with them. Most of them seemed to pack light, with the exception of Linhardt, who was having some slight difficulty dragging along a large sack. It was presumably filled haphazardly with books, judging by the small square outlines jutting out of it. After a small delay of Linhardt struggling to drag the overstuffed bag down the stairs, Caspar just grabbed the whole thing with one hand and hoisted it over his shoulder, letting Linhardt breathe a sigh of relief before joining his classmates in the living room.

They were followed down by Hubert, who, judging by the lack of any packing on his part, hadn’t changed his mind about staying. Edelgard was still nowhere to be seen, which Byleth had to admit made the whole picture seem somewhat… incomplete.“Oh, and Hubert,” Ferdinand mentioned as the group began their egress, “Bernadetta brought a fresh bag of Coffee beans with her. I already used some of it to make a fresh pot, but there should be enough left over for you to make more for yourself. We all knew how long it's been since you've had some. Just… Consider it our thanks. From all of us.”

Byleth couldn’t recall ever seeing Hubert make such a sincere smirk. He was tempted to even call it a small smile.

As they left, going back down to the path Bernadetta had initially been leading them down, the sun was at just the right angle to glare out the window of Edelgard’s room. While his former students happily talked about their plans, Byleth gave it one last glance. Even though the view was obscured, he couldn’t make out a single sign of the red outfit she’d been wearing.

And yet, despite the high spirits of the rest of the group, Byleth just couldn’t shake the feeling that they were being watched.  
  


“So, any of you know the Warp spell?” Claude asked as he walked ahead of the others, his arms behind his head. The group was currently around halfway through the forest surrounding the Vestra Estate, and though they would definitely exit with daylight to spare, it was increasingly looking like Claude had underestimated how much time he, Byleth, Bernadetta, and Lysithea had left. Thankfully, Lysithea already knew how to cast Warp, which could easily cut off a large chunk of the time they needed to travel back to Remire. Even if she had to rest for a while after she teleported each individual.

The only issue was, thanks to some magical mechanics that Byleth himself didn’t fully understand, Lysithea couldn’t Warp herself. So, Claude took it upon himself to see if any of the Eagles knew the same spell.

Linhardt yawned, “I do.” He admitted drowsily.

“Ok, Dorothea?” Claude asked, redirecting the question to the Eagle’s other available magic user, “You’ve always been good with magic. You know how to do it?”

“Sadly no,” The songstress confessed, “I tried to learn it once, but it just wasn’t my thing. And Professor Manuela _ did _ tell us not to even try spells like that unless we were absolutely certain we understood it. You know, because that could get… Messy, if you do it wrong.”

Bernadetta suddenly got a nervous look as her classmate recalled Manuela’s lesson on the subject, “Uh, Linhardt?” She remarked cautiously, “You… You _ do _ know what you’re doing, right?”

“Eh,” He shrugged, “More or less.”

“That’s not reassuring!”

“Relax Bernadetta, it's fine.” Caspar reassured her, “Trust me, I was the one he tested it on.” He admitted with a chuckle.

The statement did actually seem to calm the shy archer down, just slightly. Still, Byleth had the feeling that she’d request that Lysithea be the one to warp her. And to be honest, a small part of him wanted to do the same.

“Alright then, it all works out,” Claude affirmed candidly, “Linhardt, you and Lysithea can warp two of us ahead when we get close enough to Remire, and then after the two of you are ready to do it again, she can warp whoever didn’t go first, and then you…” Claude trailed off, stopping dead in his tracks, “Oh no.”

The rest of the group quickly followed suit to Claude’s standstill, each of them stopping their walking. Byleth’s hand immediately went to the hilt of his sword, and he noticed several of the others do the same.

“No no no no…” Claude mumbled to himself as his arms quickly went back to his sides. From what Byleth could see, he was starring, transfixed on a small patch of bramble to the side of the path. Claude quickly walked over to the patch, plucking _ something _ from it. _ “Dammit.” _

“He must’ve followed us.” He remarked panically under his breath. The statement only served to make Byleth more worried as to what could’ve made Claude, normally almost as unflappable as he was, so alarmed.

“Claude?” Petra asked tensely, “Is there being an issue?”

Claude wordlessly turned around, revealing the source of his behavior.

In his hands, pried from the thorns of the bush, was a small patch of royal blue cloth, with a blotch of black and white fur sewn on to one side.

The horror in Claude’s expression slowly mirrored in Byleth’s own as he recognized the source of the material.

“This is from _ Dimitri’s cloak _.” Claude explained, causing the alarm to spread to the rest of the group, “He’s here.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, this took a LONG time to do because I was honestly having trouble with a lot of the big conversations and quarantine school shenanigans. Sorry for the hiatus, but I hope it was worth the wait.
> 
> That being said, I do want to take this opportunity to properly recap the current status of the main Heroes' Relics, at least in regards to the main characters' knowledge of them.
> 
> Areadbhar: Dimitri  
Aegis Shield: ??? (Given to Felix by Rodrigue during Academy years, later given back following Felix's forced return to Fraldarius territory. Rodrigue's current status is unknown)  
Crusher: ??? (Last seen with Lord Dominic, current status unknown)  
Failnaught: Claude  
Freikugel: Holst (Given to Hilda during Academy years, later given back to help with Holst's protection of his group)  
Lance of Ruin: Sylvain  
Luin: Ingrid  
Rafail Gem: ???  
Thunderbrand: ??? (Last seen with Catherine, current status unknown)  
Thyrsus: Lorenz (Kept stored in Convoy, usually unused)
> 
> And yes, I am fully aware I came back from a two month drought with a cliffhanger. I will not be apologizing.


End file.
